Boys
by saradelovely
Summary: The One with the Separation.
1. Boys

Author's Note: This idea came to me while I was listening to Britney Spears 'Boys.' Also, I prefer to leave the Quinn/Pregnancy story line out of this.

_for whatever reason,_  
_ i feel like i've been wanting you all my life _

It was the first day back at Glee and Rachel was feeling mischievous. Everyone was stoked after the win at Sectionals, largely attributed to her and her killer rendition of "Don't Rain on My Parade." She heard congratulations all around, and _finally_, it seemed like people were starting to warm up to her. She arrived at Glee early that day, no surprise there. She is always, always, early. Waiting for everyone to arrive, she plugged in her headphones. Maybe there was a song she could sing, a song to practice. Scrolling the click wheel until she got to the song of her mood, Rachel finally hit play.

"Rachel!" Looking up, Rachel saw the other Glee kids staring at her oddly. She was so absorbed in her song that she didn't hear anyone come in.

"Sorry, guys." Kurt looks at her, and smirks.

"What song were you listening to?"

"Britney Spears. Even though she's a train wreck, her songs still have killer beats and catchy melodies. I hope to use her as my inspiration, minus the whole career debacle, of course."

She took the headphones out of her ears, preparing to throw the iPod in her bag. Kurt stops her, grabbing it out of her hands instead.

"I'm surprised it's not a Broadway classic. This should be fun!"

She stares at Kurt blankly. "What should be fun?"

Looking back at her like she has three heads, Kurt shakes his head. "Singing Britney."

"We're singing Britney?"

"Stop being slow, Rachel. You're singing Britney. I want to hear." He nudges her to the front of the room.

"But but but." Rachel looks petrified, which is a rare sight, given how frequently she runs to the stage, and to applause. Mercedes nudges her to the front of the room. "Come on, diva. Let's see those sexy moves."

Rachel stands awkwardly in the front, with everybody, minus Finn and Puck, staring at her expectantly. She opens her voice, ready to sing, and ends up giggling instead.

"Let's be serious." She makes a motion to sit back down, Tina interrupting.

"No way, Rachel. You're not sitting down until you prove you have the moves to match that voice."

She moves back, and thinks, this may be fun. She shrugs, and begins.

_you don't understand_

_i'm so glad we're at the same place at the same time._

_it's over now_

Rachel tries to move her body, an awkward entanglement of movements.

"We all saw you in that school assembly! You could do better than that." She looks at Matt, he's daring her.

Deciding if she's going to do it, she may as well do it right.

She throws Matt a sexy grin, and makes a 'come here' gesture.

_i spotted you dancing,_

_you made all the girls stare_

_those lips and your brown eyes, the sexy hair._

Rachel moves a hand down Matt's chest, leaning in to expose more of her shirt, and everyone in Glee starts whistling.

_what would it take for you to just leave with me?_

_not trying to sound conceited_

_but you and i were meant to be_

"Work _it_ out, girl!" Mike started cheering louder, propelling Rachel to gain more confidence. She grabbed his hand, and moved him to the front with her.

_i should shake my thing_

_make the world want you _

_tell your boys you'll be back_

_i wanna see what you could do_

Pressing the front of her body against his, she sings a little louder as Mike falls into her dance steps. Matt grabs her hand back, and she twirls into him. She hikes a leg around his, and he bends her down, his hand trailing her hips.

_you're a sexy guy, i'm a nice girl_

_let's turn this dance floor into our own little nasty world._

She pushes both guys to the side, doing a dance that leads her to the floor.

_boys, sometimes a girl just needs one_

_boys, to love her and to hold._

Mike comes back to grab her hips, and her voice takes on a sexy layer she didn't know she had.

_Boys, I just want you to touch me_

_boys, and when a girl is with one_

She pushes her hand against Mike's chest, toppling him onto the chair.

_then she's in control_

She leans in to sit on his lap, grabbing his shirt by the collar.

_took the boy off the dance floor_

_screaming in his ear_

_must have said something about me_

_because he's looking over here_

_with a sexy attitude_

_but the way your boys moving it,_

_he puts me in the mood._

Leaning against the door, Puck watched the performance, intrigued. Maybe Berry had more to her than he thought.

Standing next to Puck, Finn tried to stop drooling.


	2. Radar

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the reviews/alerts! Feel free to let me know if you have any song requests. 'Radar' by Britney Spears is used in this one.

"Rachel called me chivalrous," sighed Finn dreamily.

Puck rolled his eyes. Truth be told, he wasn't even positive Finn knew the meaning of chivalrous. That was the third time in several minutes that Finn brought up Berry's comment, her response to Finn grabbing and rolling that pink suitcase she carries around, the one holding the second set of clothes to change into after the slushie attacks. Puck can't understand why she still carries that thing around. She hasn't been slushied in weeks.

"Dude, why don't you focus on your girlfriend?"

Finn stared blankly, Puck's voice interrupting his day dreaming. "Girlfriend?"

Puck rolled his eyes, _again_. "Yeah, Quinn. Remember Quinn? Blond cheerleader with a heart of ice?" He snapped his fingers in front of Finn's face, trying to lull him out of this dream spell Berry placed. Sure, her dancing was good and she was packing a tight frame, but that was no excuse to go and forget _the_ girlfriend. Finn is his best friend but sometimes, most times, all the time, he's not the brightest crayon in the box.

"Oh." Finn gets upset at the mention of Quinn. Sometimes, Puck isn't sure why they're together, aside from the popularity boost it gives them both.

Finn falls into silence, back into his dreaming, and Puck wonders what song Berry will sing today at Glee. He figures that's as good a thing to think about as any. Puck doesn't dwell on the fact that his thoughts come back to the same girl his best friend is thinking about.

They get to the auditorium, the last ones in, and before anyone can say a word about song selection for the day, Kurt raises his hand.

"I nominate Rachel to lead the warm-up exercises."

Everybody falls into a state of shock. Since when does Kurt _even _like Rachel? Kurt realizes this and shrugs. "I only have one request, though."

Rachel looks at him, suspicious. She knew there was a catch attached. There's always something, something designed to humiliate her.

"I want her to sing Britney again."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "That was a one time thing, Kurt. I highly doubt that singing Britney would allow everyone to warm up their vocal cords effectively."

"Britney or nothing."

She glares. She isn't about to pass up a shot at being a leader because of Kurt's fascination with her singing Britney Spears. Truth be told, it felt nice to be wanted.

"Fine. Far be it from me to deprive you. I'm actually quite flattered you're trusting me with this. What song?"

Kurt looks around thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at the upward corners of his mouth.

"How about Radar? It's her newest single."

She nods. "Fine, but you have to accompany me. I refuse to do this alone."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Kurt bounces over to where Rachel stands, a giant grin evident.

c_onfidence is a must_

_happiness is a plus_

_edginess is a rush_

_edges i like them rough_

Puck sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes narrowing. Obviously, that description fit him to a T.

_a man with a midas touch_

_intoxicate me, i'm a rush_

Singing the song, Kurt and Rachel fell into step easily.

_stop, you're making me blush_

_people are looking at us._

Rachel put her hand to her mouth, and Puck could have sworn he saw her wink at him. He rubbed his eyes, he definitely needs more hours of sleep every night if he's imaging Berry winking at him.

_i don't think you know, know_

_i'm checking you out, so hot._

_wonder if he knows, he's on my radar_

_on my radar, on my radar_

Puck snapped out of his daydream long enough to see Berry staring at him, finishing up the last notes, _almost_ as if she was singing directly to him. He smirked. Of _course _she had a thing for him. He looked around subtly to see if anyone noticed, but nobody was paying attention to him, just snapping their fingers and providing background vocals.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, almost as if everybody actually likes each other. He was packing his stuff when he noticed Finn saunter up to Rachel. Puck wanted to roll his eyes again. Quinn is standing right behind him, watching her boyfriend mack on another girl. Classy, Finn. Classy.

"Hey, Rachel. I was thinking we could rehearse after Glee." Finn gives her that dopey look, ignoring the heat from Quinn's glare.

Rachel shoots him a perplexed look. "Rehearse for what? We don't have any songs together."

Puck bites his lip to keep from breaking out into laughter as Rachel turns to walk away from Finn. Tugged on his sleeve by Quinn, Finn gives her one last look at her retreating back and follows Quinn in step, a puppy trailing its master.

Puck, sensing an opportunity, decides to follow her out the door. "Berry, Berry. Wait up."

"What do you want?"

"Just the pleasure of your company, really. We're friends, we can talk."

Rachel rolls her eyes, fiddling with her combination lock. She doesn't speak, refusing to give him encouragement to continue talking.

"You know, I was watching you sing. It's _almost_ as if you were singing to me."

"Get over yourself. You're a bug I want to step on, squash underneath my shoe."

Puck pretends to look hurt. "I find that offensive, Berry."

"I find your face offensive."

Puck grins. "Who knew Berry could talk back?"

Rachel stays silent, waiting for him to leave, wondering where the conversation is going.

"Let's go out."

"No."

"I could teach you things."

"There's nothing you could teach me that I don't know."

"Sure there is. I bet with the right amount of work, I could teach you how to seduce someone."

"You're vile."

"How about it, Berry? You and me, Friday night?" He shoots her a sexy smirk, already planning the date in his mind.

"No." She slams her locker door, and starts walking away, leaving a stunned Puck.

"What? What do you mean, no?" No chick, _especially _one as Crazy, has ever said no to him. Maybe he misheard her.

"I'm busy Friday night."

"Doing what?" He raises an eyebrow, surprised Berry has plans on a Friday night.

"I have to wash my hair." She _actually_ looks serious.

He rolls his eyes. "You're blowing me off to wash your hair?"

"It's the better of two options, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask. I'll pick you up at eight."

"No."

"Eight."

"No."

"Eight." Getting the last word in, he turns to walk into the boys locker room, leaving a frustrated Berry in the wake.


	3. Chapter 3

Puck arrives at her door promptly at eight. He's wearing jeans, and a nice sweater, he looks presentable. He rings the doorbell, holding a slushie in one hand, fully prepared to listen to her rambling about her _expectations_ of this date and to fall at his feet in delight. She opens the door wearing yoga pants, and an over sized t-shirt with the number twenty on the sleeve.

She looks at him warily. "Have you come to slushie me at my house? Really? There's no privacy from you?"

This is not what he was expecting. "Our date, Berry. The date." He sticks out the slushie, a pseudo peace offering of sorts. She looks at him and the slushie with disgust, a frown evident on her face.

"I told you no."

"I didn't take you seriously."

"Maybe next time you should."

She slams the door in his face, much to his dismay.

He counts to a hundred and rings the doorbell again.

"Why are you still here?"

"Because I want to go on a date."

"Yeah, right. There has to be a catch. There's always a catch. I don't like you and you don't like me. Let's pretend this never happened, and I won't even acknowledge this episode at school come Monday." Rachel is fully intent on slamming the door in his face again, but he sticks his foot in the middle, and Puck weasels his way into the house.

"Now, you're in my house, uninvited. Did you know that vampires never set foot into someone's house without being invited first? Sadly, if you came for my blood, you're not going to get it now because you didn't comply with vampire code."

"Chill out, Berry. I didn't come for your blood. I'm almost positive ice runs through those veins of yours, anyway." Puck is _seething_. Since when do girls turn him away? He's a stud, after all. A motherfucking stud.

Rachel looks at him expectantly. "What did you come for then? Surely you can't be serious when you say you're here for the date."

"It's not the date. For our date. I told you that already."

"You slushie me three times a week for a year and a half, and now you storm your way into my house, and expect me to be ecstatic date you? Get real."

"Look, I'm sorry about that. I've been a jerk but I'm trying to make amends right now."

"You've been more than a jerk. If I cursed, I would call you every name in the book. You have no idea how much money I've wasted on dry cleaning, and white shirts? Forget it, I've learned to not even wear white."

"I'm sorry." Truth be told, he did feel a little guilty about those incidents, but he had a reputation to uphold.

Her facial expression softens. "Thanks, I guess."

Neither of them speak, standing awkwardly by the door.

"I'm still not going out with you."

"Yeah, well. What else would you be doing right now, anyway?"

"My dads are out of town for a conference, and because of the expected snowstorm, they said they changed their traveling arrangements to come back Monday. I have the house to myself so I just want to watch a movie, bake some cookies, snuggle in bed with Bobby." Puck's eyes narrow at the name.

"Bobby?"

She looks at him weirdly. "Yeah, Bobby. The cat."

"You snuggle with a cat? That's hella weird, Berry."

"Whatever, he shows me love and affection and I feed him three times a day. It's a fair trade off."

"So, are we going or what?"

"I'm not going anywhere when I have the premises to myself. I don't get judged at home, and I'm comfortable, and I'm not going with you, of all people."

"Okay, so I'll stay here."

"What?" Her voices rises in pitch, to a sound he's pretty sure only dogs can hear.

"I'll _stay_ here. We can have a date night in."

Rachel starts blinking furiously, most likely to keep from crying, and Puck bites the inside corner of his mouth to keep from laughing.

"Let's go see what you have in your fridge." With a smirk, and a kick of his shoes, he wanders into the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

Rachel follows him into the kitchen, observing him with mild interest. She figured he would have abandoned his pursuit after she slammed the door in his face, and rejected him. She's not his type, her brain can't wrap around the fact that he's here. He's _willingly_ here, making an effort, trying to do a real date. She's never had one of those before, no guy has ever wanted to spend any time with her unless it was mandatory and forced.

She hasn't said a single word to Puck since he wandered into the kitchen, taking out pots and pans. Perching herself on the kitchen counter, her favorite place _ever_, she continues to stare. He cleans up nicely, even with that childish haircut. Even in school, she's not in as close proximity as she is now. Her thoughts are preoccupied by this change of events on her Friday night, and she ponders whether or not pinching herself is the answer.

"Can't take your eyes off me, eh Berry? I am rather good looking, very sexy and appealing to the eye." Puck throws her a quick glance over his shoulder as he walks over to the refrigerator, removing various food groups, waiting for Berry to object he's not supposed to be touching something. He was a little disappointed when he opened her fridge. Seriously, there was only a bunch of leftovers and stale cookies. Who the hell hides stale cookies in the fridge?

"Considering you're trespassing in my kitchen, I'm going to stare, yeah." Her feet dangle over the edge, and he can't help but notice how tiny they are.

"I'm not trespassing. You let me stay, remember? I didn't see you putting up much of a fight. Apparently, you wanted this date _badly_."

She rolls her eyes at the implied suggestion in his voice. "We're not on a date." The words come out automatically because really, it's not a date if both people can't stand each other. Plus, thought of a _date_ date with Puck makes something inside her crawl.

"Whatever, Berry. You can deny it to the moon for all I care but I'm cooking you dinner, we're going to settle in to watch a movie, and then at the end, I'm going to kiss you good-night and we're going to end up in bed. Naked." He winks suggestively.

"Whatever, Puck. I'm going to deny it to the moon and you're _going_ to care. You're going to cook me dinner and depending on the ingredients and amount of effort you use, I may like it. We're going to settle in the couch to watch a movie, at opposite ends of the couch, so there's no risk of touching. After that, I'm going to let you kiss the cat good-night, and the only bed you'll be sleeping in will be your own."

"Kiss the cat? Is that a euphemism? Sounds kinky. Maybe we should skip dinner." Puck is getting increasingly amused at her behavior, especially when he sees her cheeks flush at his comment. He starts to think this evening may end well, after well.

"You're grotesque." Even in her head she senses how lame her comeback is.

"Correction. I'm _bad ass_." Rachel clamps a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"I don't see what's so amusing. Obviously, you haven't seen my guns." Puck looks slightly injured at her laughter, running his free hand through his Mohawk.

"That's a pretty accurate assessment. I may be the only female at our high school immune to your charms. Or those things you call attempts at charm, anyway."

Puck's eyes narrow, a frown falling across his features. "Attempts? My attempts at charm? I wrote the book regarding charm."

"Having sex with girls in various closets around school is not an element of charm. It's rather indecent and unsanitary. One only knows the limit of germs you've accumulated through your years. Girls liked to be wooed, not taken advantage of on every flat surface."

Puck wanders over to where she's still sitting, and presses his lips to her ear, feeling her fidget uncomfortably.

"Don't be jealous, Berry. You could have a try too. You look like you're flexible enough to fit in every position. We won't even need a flat surface."

Rachel leans in a little further, raising an eyebrow and feeling a smirk tug upwards at her mouth. She moves her hand to his waist, her thumb an inch underneath his sweater. "I guess you'll never find out, will you?" She has no idea what came over her. She should have just sent him home when she had the chance.

Puck's eyes widen in surprise. Now that was a comeback he wasn't expecting, nor can he think with her hand on his skin. He traces his finger across her cheekbone, and wonders if she'd hit him if he kissed her right now. She's biting her lip, a faint trace of teeth showing, and given the closeness they've found themselves in, he feels her warmth radiating.

"I bet I'll find out sooner than you think."

Uncomfortable with his look, and the movement of her hand, Rachel decides to get off the kitchen counter, her feet stepping on his in the process. She sees him wince in the corner of her eye while walking away, and can't help enjoy it slightly.

"My bad."

Laughing at her, Puck shakes his head.

"Oh, please. If you're going to deflect blame, at least do it well. You _totally_ meant to do that."

Looking back at him, Rachel breaks into a fit of laughter, and nods.

"Of course I did."

Plopping herself down into the kitchen chair, she positions her legs to sit Indian style.

He places her plate in front of her, the delicious smell wafting to her nose. She's a sucker for spaghetti. She watched too much _Lady and the Tramp_ while younger, and always swooned when they shared the plate. She debates swooning over spaghetti with Puck, and then it dawns on her that it's still _Puck_, and it'd still be gross.

"This tastes great. I mean, you know. Adequate," quickly correcting herself, lest he thinks she enjoys his cooking, and then he comes back _all_ the time.

"Bite me, Berry. I know it tastes better than the leftover Chinese food."

"I'm just a sucker for spaghetti. And fine, I apologize for my poor behavior, and it tastes _amazing_. You're really fortunate to know how to cook. One time I had to boil the kettle by myself, and I set the kettle on fire. It ended up exploding all over the kitchen and my dads were furious about the damage done to the kitchen. Now they just leave me money all the time for take-out." Crap, she hadn't meant to share the childhood anecdote.

"I had to learn to cook quickly. Mom's always working, and there's only so much I could spend on fast food and still have leftover money to slushie you." His eyes twinkle at his comment, and she realizes she's never noticed how his green eyes sparkle.

"Please, if you believe that the cost of slushies is expensive, I'm going to send you my next dry cleaning bill. Then, we can compare notes on who spends more and everybody wins."

He sticks out his hand, waiting for her to grab on. "Deal, Berry. Deal." He doesn't mention to her she hasn't been slushied in a while, not if it means he'll win the bet.

They drop hands quickly, and he can't describe it, but he's pretty sure he just felt tingles in his hand. He wonders if she felt it too, but decides it's probably just static from letting go too quickly.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur to them both, and by the time Puck realizes he's finished his food, it's past one in the morning. He's amazed at where the time went, and how easy it felt talking to her. He's never seen such an easy going side of her, and he's kind of glad. Unsure of where the feeling came from, he realizes how many more guys she'd have fighting over her if she just loosened up.

"I kind of have to go, Berry. My mom is going to freak out, wonder why I'm not back yet. She's a worrier." He starts picking up the dishes, intent on leaving behind a spotless kitchen, and Rachel waves him off with her hand.

"Seriously, you were gracious enough to cook a wonderful meal. I'll clean up, you should get home so she doesn't worry."

"Thanks for everything tonight. I'm pretty glad you didn't kick me out of the house when you had the chance, or call the cops to report a disturbance."

Rachel grins briefly at his attempt at humor. Chances are, she probably would have called the cops, and enjoyed it.

"Maybe next time. Good night, Puck," her words come out softer than she intended and she is pretty sure she is staring at him with a starstruck look on her face. Since when does she even think Puck and starstruck in the same sentence? She doesn't know why she said _next_ time. Why would there even be a next time? It must be the late hour playing with her mind, she can't _seriously_ have a smidgen of feelings for the juvenile delinquent.

He looks at Rachel, staring at him expectantly, and doesn't move in for the kiss. He mutters his good-byes, and leaves without a backward glance. _Jackass_, he thinks.

Closing the door, Rachel bites her lip again, her face falling, and wonders why there's an ache of disappointment he didn't kiss her good-night.

Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews and alerts! You guys are awesome, and now that finals week is done, _finally_, I have more time to dedicate to these stories. However, I'm probably going to hold chapters hostage just because I really appreciate your feedback and I know I don't get it frequently if I don't ask for it. So here I am, asking :)


	5. What Began with Such Promise

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! The song used in this chapter is '(You Drive Me) Crazy' by Britney Spears. As always, please review. I appreciate all the feedback. I was thinking I may involve the Quinn pregnancy story line but I want to know how you guys feel about that as part of this story. Would it be out of place?

Rachel trudges up the stairs, and plops herself face down into her pillows, moving her arms underneath them to press her face closer in. She flips over, and stifles a scream in her throat. He didn't kiss her, and maybe he didn't have a good time, and maybe this was some elaborate scheme to pull a childish prank on her. She flips through images from the night, wondering if there was anything she misinterpreted.

She wishes she had _friends_ she could consult, or at the very least, a mother.

She decides the building anxiety can only be fixed in one way, and she grabs her hair brush to use as a microphone. She doesn't know why she chose 'Crazy.' It has no relevance to the situation, and she rarely thinks of Puck to go crazy over him. She's trying to convince herself that he doesn't waste his thoughts, whatever they may be, on her, either.

_baby, i'm so into you_

She's not into him. No, really. He's _Puck_, and he has that childish haircut, and that lazy smirk. He has a droplet of a birthmark on the side of his neck. It's not as if she was _staring_, the thing was right there. She couldn't help but notice. He doesn't even attend classes, she's not even sure he has a life goal.

_you've got that something_

_what can i do?_

She pauses for a minute. What _is_ his life goal? Surely he has something motivating his departure from Lima. She mentally flips through their conversation, passing over their bet, her favorite songs, his extracurricular activities, glee, classes, _Finn_, but she can't recall anything about goals, and the future. This disturbs her, and she can't put her finger as to why.

_baby, you spin me around_

_the earth is moving but i can't feel the ground_

_every time you look at me_

He looked at her during dinner like he _liked_ her. Maybe he doesn't have any ulterior motives. And he didn't seem to be in a rush to leave. He seemed a little forlorn at leaving her alone and maybe, maybe if his mother was working late like she often does, he could have spent the night. Maybe maybe _maybe_.

_my heart is jumping, it's easy to see._

_you drive me crazy, i just can't sleep_

Snap out of it, Rachel. Why would he want to spend the night? Why would he want anything to do with her outside of school? Her thoughts bring her back to the real world, and she lets out a huge sigh, breaking from song. This song was not the best choice.

_i'm so excited i'm in too deep._

_baby, thinking of you keeps me up all night_

_i hope that i'm not wasting my feelings on you_

Rachel realizes that she doesn't like Puck, not even a little bit. He's been annoying and uncouth for several years, and _one_ Friday night dinner is not going to change anything.

While Rachel is singing around in her room, Puck has been standing outside trying to figure out where he left his keys, finally realizing they're on her kitchen table, and turns around to walk back, and a flash of movement catches his eyes and he stares at Rachel upstairs.

Truth be told, he did have a good time spending time with her. In limited quantities, she's tolerable, and funny, and she has sarcasm. She has a wicked dimple when she smiles, and she bites on her lip so often, he starts to wonder what it would be like if he did it for her instead. He shakes his head, and walks to ring her doorbell. He _can't_ actually like Berry. He's a _stud_. A bad ass stud. The nagging question of why he asked her out still lingers, but he tries to convince himself it's to make his best friend jealous, even if his best friend has a girlfriend.

Hearing the doorbell, Rachel stops singing. It's been about fifteen minutes since Puck left. Surely if he forgot anything, he would have returned immediately. She grabs the mace on her counter, and proceeds slowly down the stairs, the door that keeps ringing and ringing in the darkness of the night.

It's too dark to see who's outside, so Rachel flings the door open and sprays Puck with mace.

"What the _fuck_, Berry?" He clutches his eyes, shocked she _fucking_ sprayed him with _mace_.

"OH, PUCK I DIDN'T SEE IT WAS YOU BECAUSE YOU LEFT FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO AND I THOUGHT YOU WERE AN INTRUDER THAT WAS COMING TO KILL ME AFTER YOU LEFT AND DADDY GAVE ME MACE TO PROTECT MYSELF FROM INTRUDERS AND THEY ALWAYS PRIDE ME ON SAFETY AND OTHER THINGS AND OH MY GOD ARE YOUR EYES OKAY I AM SO SORRY THIS IS RATHER RUDE OF ME AFTER EVERYTHING YOU DID TONIGHT I MEAN I HAD A NICE TIME AND I DIDN'T MEAN TO SPRAY YOU WITH MACE AND I AM SO SORRY."

Puck rubs his eyes, a little freaked out by her screaming, a little freaked out by the mace. Blinking, he wonders if he heard correctly, that she had a good time.

"Yeah, yeah. Stop your yapping. I'm fine. I get it, better safe than sorry. I, uh, forgot my keys on your kitchen table though, and I sat outside trying to find them in pockets and figure out if I left them in the car accidentally, which obviously, I didn't."

"Right." Rachel nods weakly, and goes inside to grab them.

Puck leans against the door frame, stuck in indecision about whether or not he should mention seeing her display through her bedroom window. She really should change rooms, preferably to a side of the house that's less viewable by her neighbors, and strangers.

"Thanks. P.S, Berry. Tonight was pretty nice. Before I forget, nice moves." Puck winks suggestively when she gives him the keys, and heads back to his truck for a second time, leaving Rachel with a confused expression on her face. He acknowledges her comment backhandedly.

_ Aw, shit_. It dawns on her he viewed her singing and dancing a couple of minutes ago, and her face turns deeper into a shade of crimson. Slamming the door, she leans against it, trying to kill the anxious feeling that is building up again.

She walks into school Monday morning, determined to avoid Puck after Friday night, and her eyes are too busy darting around the hallway for him that she doesn't realize where she's going, crashing right into him.

"Hey, Berry. Miss me?" Puck flashes his trademark smirk, and Rachel gets momentarily blindsided. Why are his eyes always so damn shiny?

"No, but your presence in front of me is preventing me from attending home room on time. Given your track record of attendance in classes, you're unaware of how significant punctuality is. I'm determined to be a star, and without showing up on time, I'm not going to be trusted, and I'm never going to succeed, and then it's all over for me. I'll have you know this voice is _not_ meant for fast food restaurants and seedy dives." All her words tumble out in a long run on sentence, and at the end of it, she just goes _whoosh_, and he nearly dies of laughter at an image of her working at Burger King.

"Easy there, tiger. I'll have you know I take attendance _very_ seriously. The nurse misses my presence if I miss our regular scheduled meeting. That's how we get our daily workouts, you know."

She ignores his retort, and pushing past him, her feet stomping every step of the way. Her skirt had extra bounce to it, and Puck tilted his head sideways. Berry's pretty attractive from the back, go figure.

"Why hello there, my little peach blossom. You're looking extra ripe today."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You need to get out of my face, Jacob. I'm not in the mood for your sexual innuendos and lame comments this morning. And I brought mace."

Jacob grinned. "What are you in the mood for? Your wish is my command." He moves to touch her arm with his finger when his body slams into the locker next to Berry.

"Paws off my girlfriend, Israel. Or I'll make sure you don't have any."

"She's not your _girlfriend_, Puck. I think I have as right claim to her as any guy in this school. She is _fine_, if you catch my drift. I think she's slowly warming up to me." Puck slams him into the locker again. Obviously, Israel didn't get the message the first time.

"Let me put it in simplistic terms for you. I'm _dating _her, and obviously, my name holds more weight at this school than yours. You go anywhere near her again, and not only will you be missing hands, you won't have eyes to notice they're gone."

Jacob meekly nods, and scampers away, as far as his little legs could carry him.

Puck leans against the locker door, looking at her. Strands of hair are falling on the side of her face, and his hands are itching to move it. He sticks his hands in his pockets before he does anything else.

"Don't I get a thanks?"

"I don't condone violence. I don't see what I should be expressing gratitude for. I had the situation under control and I would have been able to address the issue with Jacob in a normal tone of voice without using my fists."

"Your fists are _tiny_."

"Are not. Daddy arranged marital arts lessons for me when I was a child, believing I need a proper education in self-defense. You would be surprised at the knowledge I've obtained."

"Whatever, Berry. You don't have to do that anymore. Since we're dating, guys will get the hint and back the fuck off."

"We're _not_ dating," she hisses. When Rachel imagines her first high school boyfriend, she imagines _Finn_, and a goofy smile. Not _Puck_, who searches for every reason to drive her crazy, and enjoys it.

"We are now, gorgeous."

Puck drops a kiss on her forehead, and walks off whistling. Today is showing signs of improvement.


	6. Things People Say

This day is _fucked_. Rachel doesn't curse, she doesn't believe in using vulgar terminology to express feelings and emotions because everybody knows the best way to express feelings is through the use of a song, not simplistic words.

She may have possessed feelings for Puck, feelings of sexual tension, and maybe she _did_ want him to kiss her but she doesn't want to date him because well, she's already established this. She is Rachel Berry, and she has gold stars next to her name, and he's _Puck_, and she still doesn't know if he has a life goal, not that it matters. She wouldn't date him, anyway.

It doesn't take long for the rumors to spread across the school, traveling from person to person. It reaches Rachel in her second period history class, when Finn throws her a paper airplane. She carefully unfolds it, perhaps if it has something _important_ written in it, she may keep it for her scrapbook.

Are you dating Puck?

She turns around to glare at him, this is not the type of important she had in mind. Turning around, she hopes Finn can read glares, and realize the glare was a negative response to his ridiculous question.

She gets hit with another paper airplane two minutes later.

Are you sure?

She turns around, again, and nods. Evidently, Finn does poorly with facial expressions.

She gets hit, for the _third_ time less than a minute later.

What do you see in him? He's not your type, you know. He doesn't do girlfriends.

This question confuses Rachel because Finn and Puck are best friends but if that's the case, she wonders why Finn is in disbelief of the idea that Rachel could be happy with Puck. She doesn't bother turning around this time around, bolting out of class the second the bell rings.

She walks, really quickly, down the halls, anxious to find Puck, and set the record straight. She appreciated his help this morning, but really, there's no need to get carried away. She finds him by the water fountain, hanging out with his football buddies, slushies in hand.

She prepares for the cold blast to hit her when she walks up to him and taps him on the shoulder but nothing comes.

"Why are your eyes closed, babe?"

She opens her eyes, and he's standing there, smirking and taking sips of his slushie.

"I thought you were going to slushie me for approaching you. That is your standard behavioral pattern, in case you've forgotten."

He rolls his eyes, and sticks the slushie out to her. "It's grape, your favorite."

She gingerly takes a sip, and wonders if he put something in it. She racks her mind, and can't remember if cyanide has a taste. He's still standing there, the smirk evident on his face.

She gives him a sheepish smile. If there was cyanide in the mixture, she would have been poisoned, and dead, by now. She opens her mouth to say something, perhaps apologize for her thoughts, when the events of what happen next stun her.

She finds herself holding a slushie in one hand and his waist in the other, one hand of his on her face and the other on her waist, and his lips on hers. Her heart begins to race, and she's positive it's not the cyanide. He's the first to break away, shooting looks at his friends whistling.

"I'll see you in Glee." With that, he saunters off, leaving Rachel more perplexed than before. Deciding to fight back, she yells at his retreating figure. "Try not to miss me too much." He turns around, and smirks before blowing her a kiss. That's how Rachel spends her time in classes that day, over analyzing two sets of kisses.

Later that afternoon, he beats her to Glee, taking a seat next to her normal position.

"Hello, Noah." She bites her lip, and debates bringing up the morning's kiss.

"Hey there, girlfriend." He's uncertain whether or not to bring up earlier. He wasn't planning on kissing her, and he probably would have slushied her, had she not stood there, expecting it. He hates when the element of surprise is ruined. He did the next most logical thing. Obviously, he had to kiss her. She turned out to be an amazing kisser, he wonders where she learned how to use her tongue.

"We're not dating. Stop lying to the public and feeding these rumors."

Puck throws her a smile, everyone walking in and eavesdropping. "I already explained this to you, Berry. We don't have to hide our feelings for each other. Not anymore." He leans in, placing his hand on her thigh, and kisses her cheek. "Face it, we're a pair of good-looking Jews."

Rachel slaps his hand away.

"We are not dating."

"Okay." Puck nods, and Rachel's eyes go wide in surprise. She didn't expect it would be this easy to get rid of him.

"So, what are we then?"

Rachel blinks again, and clears her throat.

"I'm unsure of what you are referring to. There is no we."

"There is definitely a we, as evident by Friday night." Puck smirks, and everybody watches on, fascinated.

"Friday night was a fluke."

Kurt elbows Mercedes. "What happened Friday night? Do you think he devirginized her?" Kurt intended his voice to come out in a whisper, not carry its way across the room for everyone to hear.

Rachel looks at Kurt, who could only smile sheepishly, and he slinks down in his chair.

"Puck?" Rachel asks sweetly, and his eyes narrow. He moves a little closer to her, putting his chin on her shoulder.

"Yes, Berry? Have you come to your senses?"

She shakes her head. "No, I'm waiting for you to answer Kurt's question, _sweetie_."

Puck throws Kurt two thumbs up, and Rachel can only groan. That is _not_ what she had in mind when she told him to answer the question.

"I'm not one of your conquests." Her eyes grow wide as saucers, and she's trying to blink back tears.

He looks at her strangely, wondering if she's on the verge of hysterics and which corner of the room he should hide.

"You're not a conquest, you're _my_ girlfriend. Sooner or later, that little tidbit will make sense in your head. Now be quiet, I think Mr. Schuester wants to start today's session." Puck throws an arm around her shoulders, his fingers grazing her shoulders, and Rachel falls silent, the tears instantly gone. When she laces her fingers with his, his heart jumps into his throat, and he becomes concerned about his breathing.

Maybe there's something to be said for this dating thing after all.

_if you enjoyed this fic, please review. i'm curious to find out if the story is progressing to your expectations. happy holidays, everyone!_


	7. We Were Dead Before the Ship Sank

Standing outside his house after Glee, she rings the doorbell, wondering what possessed her to visit. She saw him after school with Berry, the rumors that have been making their rounds through school earlier that day. She didn't believe them, not at first but then she saw him in Glee, and she saw Rachel with him, and the sinking feeling at the bottom of her stomach argues their relationship is no longer a rumor, it's fact.

"Quinnie Quinn Quinn. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Puck opens the door, holding a bottle of water, and leans against the door frame. He, himself, is in a state of shock that she's at his door, wondering why this day keeps getting weirder and weirder. First, there was the whole dating thing with Berry, which he _still_ can't decipher his motives for that. He's been sitting upstairs for close to an hour now, throwing around his football, debating if he should call her for something, talk it out or figure it out. He doesn't know, he shakes his head to get thoughts of Berry out.

Quinn gives a face of disgust, and swallows, still in disbelief she's standing here in front of _Puck_, of all people. She doesn't know why she came to his house to ask about his relationship with Man-Hands, she can't fathom why she should care but she does, she cares _a lot_. This is not how it's supposed to work. She's supposed to be with Finn, lovable Finn. He's supposed to be in physical relationships with cougars and Santana, not actual _actual_ relationships with feelings and things of that nature, least of all, a relationship with _Berry_.

"What's up with you and Man-Hands?" She meant to ask that subtly but it comes out rushed, and quick. Subtleness has never been quite her forte.

Puck looks at her, nearly choking on the water he just took a sip of, a look of disbelief etched across his features. He can't believe this, that she came forty minutes out of her way to ask him about his pseudo relationship with Berry.

"You came all this way to ask _that_?"

She nods, realizing how foolish it sounds now. She shouldn't have came, she should leave, she should send him a text, she should pretend none of this ever happened, she should turn around and walk away. There are a million things running through her mind, and they come to a stop when he finally speaks.

"Mind your own damn business."

"That's not an answer. Obviously if I came here for an answer, you should give me an answer."

"I don't have to give you an answer because really, I don't owe you shit."

"Is it the sex? She looks like she could be, all that high strung energy, the enthusiasm, flexibility."

"Don't talk about her, just don't. I don't want to hear a single word out of your mouth about her. She's none of your business."

She nods, surprised at the territorial twinge in his voice, wondering if he would ever talk about her in a similar way.

He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, wondering how much more awkward this conversation can become. There's an air of betrayal in the air whenever they're forced to be together at school, and he can't believe she's brought that betrayal to his house.

"I don't know why I'm here." The words come out in a whisper, words that are a cover for all the things she wants to say instead. She knows why she's here, she just can't bring herself to say the truth out loud.

"Admit it, babe. You miss me." He smirks at her, and she remembers the way his breath felt on hers, the way his mouth trailed kisses across her jaw, and she shivers.

"I have _Finn_. I don't need you."

With that comment, she walks off and out his door, drawing her jacket closer in to protect from the cold, and from answers she didn't want to find.

_Author's note: I still haven't decided whether or not Quinn's pregnancy will be a part of the story but I wanted to focus on Quinn and Finn's reaction to the idea of Puck and Rachel dating. _


	8. What if it Was You

_Author's Note:_

_Eminator: True story, a couple of hours before you messaged me, I was trying to message you :) I can't contact you because your messaging is disabled – what's your e-mail? I'm at Olga210()gmail dot com. (Your e-mail address didn't show up in the message!)_

_Also, despite the brief mentions of Puck/Quinn, there will be no pregnancy story line. I will, however, be taking their relationship to a different angle._

_And now back to our regularly scheduled programming. Thanks for all the reviews, you guys!_

Frustrated with Quinn for ruining his mood, Puck slammed the door and stomped up the stairs, plopping himself back on the bed. He pushes the football he was throwing around earlier off the bed, and sunk his face head first into the pillow.

Him and Quinn were over, as over as one could get sleeping with his best friend's girlfriend. It was an accident, an unfortunate accident, one that he's managed to push to the furthest corner of his mind, except for a few brief instances when the memories rear its ugly head. He still regretted what happened between them that night, even more so when he had to look his best friend in the eye.

Puck shakes his head. Now isn't the best time to be rehashing old wounds, and former problems, not when he has the situation with Berry to deal with. He didn't mean to say they're dating, he just felt like using some of the lingering aggression inside him when he pushed Jacob. The words that followed the shove afterwards were as much as a surprise to him as they were to everyone else. He meant to take them back, he _did_. He just can't understand why he didn't.

There's an organized hierarchy at their high school, and he's going against the norm, he's breaking it by lowering himself down the food chain. He can't understand why he's intent on dating Berry, especially when he's him and she's, well, she's _herself_. Most days, generally every day actually, he can't _stand _her. He's used to girls tripping over themselves to get to him, to fight for his affections or to get him to flash even a lazy smirk, _any _attention he gives. He could have any girl in the school, in this town and the one over, any girl who _wants_ to date him. If it wasn't for the fact that she's disinterested in being with him, he probably would tell her the whole thing was a lie, and go back to living his daily routine. Hell, he has half a mind to call her and tell her that now. He would break up with her, he _would_, but then he would look like a coward to everyone else. They would all think, there goes _Puck_, he couldn't handle Berry. That would do wonders for his reputation. _Wonders_. Let it be known he's not a coward. He's going to stay with her until he figures out how to get the better of the situation, it's _only_ a pride issue.

Berry has a tendency of being certifiably insane, and to the best of his recollection, only Finn has the ability to stomach that. Though Finn, not being the brightest light bulb in the shed, has a tendency to stomach a lot of things.

Enough with this feelings shit, he thinks, grabbing his sneakers to go to Finn's house. He needs to play some video games, do some weed, something to reassure himself that he still has his manhood after spending two (!!!) hours thinking of feelings and other related topics of interest.

"Hey, Ms. Hudson. I was looking for Finn."

"Oh, he's not here, dear. He's at Rachel's."

"Thanks, Ms. H. Have a good afternoon."

Puck figures he'll take a drive over to Berry's. Not because he's worried about what they're doing or anything, he reasons. He just wants to drag Finn back to his house and engage in male bonding.


	9. Giving You a Head Start

Puck wanders over to Berry's house, pulling up to her driveway. Ringing the doorbell, he gets frustrated when no one opens the door. Out of anger, he turns the knob, surprised when he finds the door opening.

Walking into her living room, he sees her curled up on the couch watching that irrelevant Britney Spears movie, her head on Finn's shoulder, her knees on his lap. A surge of jealousy slides through him, and he coughs, taking enjoyment at how quickly they break apart.

He hands her the flowers, and watches her eyes light up. He doesn't mention that he stole them from her neighbors yard only moments earlier.

She puts a hand on her hip, still gripping the flowers tightly. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"Just wanted to visit my favorite girl." He leans down to nibble her neck until Finn coughs, interrupting Noah's attempts at being suave. He shoots Finn a dirty look.

"Are you done with Finn yet? This is really cutting into our time together."

Rachel stays silent, still fascinated that Puck is _actually_ standing there, while Finn yelps out a no.

Puck raises his eyebrows at his best friend, throwing a glare in his direction.

"Don't you have places to be? A girlfriend to entertain? Right to left learn?"

"Puck! Don't be rude." She swats him on the arm and he winces.

He puts his arm around her waist, his fingers trailing across her hip bone, and pushes her closer to him, shooting Finn a lazy smirk that just _quite_ doesn't meet his eyes. Quinn or not, he doesn't trust Finn around Rachel.

"I'm sure Finn was _just_ leaving, anyway, babe."

Finn scratches his head, and leans back on the couch, settling amongst the dozens of throw pillows.

"Not really, no. I want to make sure this duet between Rachel and me is perfect." He smiles.

"Rachel and I," she says automatically.

"Thanks, Rachel. Rachel _and_ I."

Puck narrows his eyes. If he didn't know any better, he would swear that his best friend is cock blocking him on _fucking purpose_.

"No offense, Puck, but it looks like you're cutting into my time with Rachel. You know how important rehearsal is to her. Maybe you should leave so we don't waste more time."

"As if you were concerned with rehearsing your song when you were trying to mack on my girl on her couch."

"We were just watching _Crossroads_, dude. Take a breather."

Rachel feels a flutter in her heart at his usage of possessive tenses, and bites her lips. He couldn't _actually_ be jealous. She shakes the thoughts inside her head wistfully, and concentrates back on the two boys staring at her expectantly. She's already wasted time attaching herself to one boy who only wants to be friends, she shouldn't do the same with the other.

"He has a point, Noah. Independence is a key trait of the foundation of a relationship. I pride myself very highly on being a diligent worker. I'll walk you out, and maybe you could IM me later."

Puck looks _horrified _at such a concept, but nonetheless, follows her out to the door, throwing the finger at Finn behind Berry's back. The minute the door closes behind her, he launches into a ramble.

"Berry, what the fuck. You were pissed at the idea of _even_ dating me earlier today, and now, you're all about dating me and keeping your independence. Seriously now?"

He's surprised when Rachel doesn't launch into one of her infamous tangents, just continues rubbing her shoe into the porch step.

"You _like_ Finn. You're trying to make him jealous." _Ah, shit._

Rachel clamps her hand over his mouth.

"Don't talk so loud," she hisses, wiping her hand across her skirt. "As if there isn't some slutty cheerleader you want to make jealous."

Puck shakes his head. "Can't say anyone comes to mind, no."

"Oh." She says weakly.

He looks at her, and realizes this may be the out he was debating earlier.

"We could pretend to date to make him jealous."

She looks up at him, hope shining in her brown eyes. "Do you think he would?"

Puck shrugs, hell as if he knows. "I'm a guy, trust me. We _always _want what we can't have."

"How much time do you think we need?"

He shrugs, waiting for her to choose.

"How about a month?"

He nods. "A month is fine by me. How should we seal the deal?"

"A handshake."

"Okay." He starts shaking her hand, and pulls her in to kiss him.

"Handshakes are not part of kissing, Noah!"

"I don't care. I want unlimited kissing privileges since I'm not getting any other action."

She blinks at him, almost as if in surprise. "You mean I'm not going to have to worry about you flirting and putting the moves on other girls? You know, blowing our cover."

"I don't roll like that. I'm not a cheater, baby." He signs an X over his heart, drawing one over hers at the last minute.

"You have to honor that too, you know."

Rachel bursts into laughter. "Who would I even cheat on you with?"

Finn, he wants to say. Finn. But he just shrugs and mutters around his breath.

She rubs her thumb across his lower lip, and leans in for a last kiss.

"Just don't fall in love with me, Puckerman."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

When Rachel walks back into her house, closing the door in his face, Puck stands there, an expression of shock circling his features. He can't believe what he's getting himself into. He throws his hands up in the air, and bounds down the steps to his truck.

This fake relationship thing is already off to a poor start, he thinks.


	10. Games People Play

_Day_ 1 – Games People Play

_Author's Note: Song used 'Sometimes' Britney Spears._

_Happy New Year, everyone! _

_Next update: January 5th or 85 reviews, whichever comes first. _

During class the next day, Finn taps Rachel on the shoulder, and begins a conversation that wakes Puck, sitting next to her. To continue the pretense of this pseudo relationship, he's decided to make an effort to make appearances in the classes they share together. The usual, copy her lecture notes, sleep, mark his territory. Hearing Finn speak cuts into his ability to take long naps, and to stay distracted instead of paying attention.

"It would be nice if you could keep your voice down, Finn. Show some respect for the tired. I'm trying to take a nap here."

"Go back to sleep, Puck. You're not missing much."

Puck rolls his eyes, and leans his head back on his desk but keeps his ears open.

"Rachel, what are you doing after school? I was thinking maybe you want to spend some time together. We could go bowling or something. Dinner."

Overhearing this, Puck's ears perk up and he answers before Rachel could. God _forbid_ she says yes.

"No."

"I didn't _even_ ask you, Puck. I asked Rachel."

Puck shrugged, swinging an arm over Rachel's shoulders, who looked at Finn apologetically.

"The girlfriend and I have plans after school. Plans that _don't_ involve you." He doesn't know where the words came from, and judging by the surprised expression on Rachel's face, neither does she.

Finn sighed. "Why do you have to say it like that?"

"Say what like what?"

"You know, the whole _girlfriend _word." Finn shrugs his shoulders, and fidgets uncomfortably at Rachel, seeking assistance.

"Dude. She _is_ my girlfriend."

"That doesn't mean you should say it like that." Finn continues to mutter, and Puck rolls his eyes. Seriously, the guy is dating Quinn. He could at least _try _to hide his jealousy over Rachel.

Puck looks over at Rachel, who's staring intently at the board, and feels a small rush of happiness at having something his best friend wants but can't have. Before he thinks, he drops a kiss on the side of her forehead, eliciting a smile from the beaming Rachel.

After Glee, Rachel's cornered by Puck, hands folded across his chest as he taps his foot against the floor.

"Why are you tapping your foot?"

"We have _plans_, Berry."

She looks surprised, even more so than earlier in the afternoon.

"I thought your offer of plans earlier was a ruse. A delicately disguised ruse so I would be prevented from spending time with Finn."

Puck rolls his eyes. "We have plans, and I think it would be _amazing_ of you if you moved a little quicker."

"Fine, fine. If you insist on being void of any polite manners."

They walk out to his car, and he watches in amusement as she struggles to buckle her seatbelt.

"A little help would be generous of you, Noah."

He glances over at her, and stifles his smirk. He laughs, and untangles the mess she's made, and buckles her in, a burst of electricity when his arm brushes hers. He doesn't make mention of it, but wonders if she felt it too.

"Where are you taking me?"

"We're going shopping."

She looks confused. "Shopping?"

"I need supplies for the pool cleaning business."

"But it's October."

"Irrelevant, Berry. Irrelevant. This place has an indoor pool."

Gingerly, she follows him out of the car when he pulls up, and they wander around the store, her rambles a million miles long and he begins to debate if he should ask a clerk if they sell earplugs, or ear muffs, or anything that could cover his ears.

Suddenly, an idea comes to him, an idea to temporarily quiet her speech. He stops short in the middle of the aisle, and sticks out his hand.

"Come on, Berry. It's _our_ song." He can't believe he's about to do this, and maybe a part of him _does_ want to dance with her in the middle of the store. If only to direct her focus onto a different arena. He watches in amusement as she sticks her hand on her hips, ignoring his outreached hand.

"Puck, we're standing in the middle of the cleaning supplies aisle and the speakers are blasting Britney Spears. This _can't_ be our song. We don't even _have_ a song."

"Girls love this stuff, the whole dancing in public places. _Slow_ dancing in public places, and you're with a stud like me, Berry. I don't know what could go wrong."

She still looks a little hesitant. "I don't know."

"Shut up, Berry, this is our song from now on. Give me your hand." He sticks out his and waits for her to grab it, rolling his eyes when it's taking her forever.

"I don't bite, Berry. Not hard anyway."

She laughs, and hands over her hand, letting him draw her in.

She nestles her head into his chest, his hand on her waist, the other with her fingers, and he begins to lightly hum into her ear.

_you tell me that you're in love with me_

_that you can't take your pretty eyes from me_

_it's not that i don't want you to stay_

"You sound pretty off key there, Puck."

He pulls away slightly, and grins at her.

"I don't see you doing any better."

_but every time you come too close, i move away_

_i wanna believe in everything that you say_

She laughs, and she slowly joins in his humming.

He twirls her around the aisle, nearly knocking into the box of Windex.

_because it sounds good,_

_but if you really want me, move slow_

_but there's things about me you just have to know._

When the song finishes, he looks over at her, her eyes sparkling.

"Not bad, Berry. Not bad at all."

"That's something to tell your kids about, dancing next to a pair of mops."

"They're just jealous we had better moves."

"Come on, Romeo. Let's go find your supplies." Linking her arm into his, they begin to search for his supplies, and after paying a small fortune, he grabs the bags and they begin the walk out of the store.

While they're walking to the car, Puck notices a long box peeking out of Berry's bag. He doesn't recall her purchasing anything, and he's nearly positive she didn't have that inside the store.

"Berry, what are you carrying?"

"It's a windshield wiper."

"But you didn't buy it."

She looks away, a guilty expression evident in her eyes.

"I may have found it."

"So you _stole_ it?"

"I didn't _steal_. I happened to stumble upon it, and as it was unclaimed, I merely took advantage of a good opportunity."

"You. Stole. It."

She swats him on his arm, and he bursts into a fit of laughter.

"Berry, if this is the first step in your adventurous program, you have failed. _Failed_. Stealing a windshield wiper doesn't make you bad ass, Berry."

"I didn't steal it, it fell out of the car, and I'm _offended_ you could even consider I'm less than an honest person."

"Whatever, Berry. Let's get you home, my little thief, you."

On the way out to the car, he continues humming the song.


	11. I Would Dare

_Day_ 2: The One Where Rachel Gets Jealous

Rachel is _fuming_. The entire day, she's been on edge for a multitude of reasons. She doesn't know where to _even_ begin, the morning got off to a poor start because she overslept, and had to race to school. She didn't even have enough time to grab a granola bar, and now her stomach has been growling for the better part of the hour.

She's heard the rumors during her classes, she slouches in her seat. Girls are whispering about her and Puck, the guys adding their own opinions to it. She attempts to give herself a pep talk, _they're only jealous_, but she knows they're not, they're wondering how Puck ended up with _her_.

Just when Rachel thinks things can only improve, she's corned by Quinn by her locker.

"So."

Rachel looks over at her, and behind her, and waits for the slushie, surprised when none comes.

"How can I help you, Quinn?"

"You're not really in a relationship with Puck, are you?"

"We are on day two, if you must know. If it matters at all to you, which I can't see as to how it would, considering the status of your long running relationship."

"It doesn't matter to me."

"Then why are you here?"

"To warn you."

"Against what? I doubt Puck's harmful."

"He's only interested in sex."

"That topic hasn't been broached yet, not that it's any of your business."

"Get real, Berry. Guys like him have no interest in relationships. They only want one thing."

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response. Enjoy your day, Quinn." Rachel slams her locker door, and walks off, wondering if she can get _any_ peace in this building.

Later, she walks into Glee, early as usual, and sees Santana leaning in closer to Puck, and stomps over to sit on his lap.

"Hi, Santana."

"Man-Hands."

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

"You are, actually."

"That's unfortunate."

Santana makes a face of disgust, but makes no move to leave her chair.

Rachel narrows her eyes, and decides she's had enough of this day, and adjusts her position on Puck, hooking both her legs behind him.

He raises an eyebrow, but offers no comment. Since when does Berry engage in public displays of affection? Or straddling? He figures it's more or less a show for Santana's benefit so he plays along. He's been mad at Santana since she broke up with him over his poor credit rating, plus if Berry wants to sit on his lap in the public view, hey, he's not going to complain.

"Hi, baby."

"Hey there, yourself." He moves a hand around her waist, and the other by the edge of her skirt.

She presses a kiss to his forehead, and makes her way around the side of his face. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Santana stomp out, but she doesn't stop.

Her fingers are hooked onto his belt buckle, and she has both legs wrapped around him, and she leans in, humming a song in his ear. He doesn't even know what song she's humming, he's too distracted by the direction her mouth is going down his neck. She makes a motion with her hands, and he has to stifle his groans.

When she stops, she leans back to see the expression on his face, biting her lip and wondering what came over her just now. She doesn't have too wait long for his reaction.

"You're _fucking_ crazy, Berry. It's almost as if you physically assaulted my parts just now."

"Lower region, to be specific. Lower region. And to be honest, I didn't get much, if any, complaint from you."

"Not everyday your girlfriend gives you a lap dance, sexy _as _hell lap dance. I'm going to have visions of you doing this for _days_. Maybe, probably, even weeks. My girl's _sexy_."

"It wasn't a lap dance. It was, I don't know. I don't know the politically correct term to refer to it as."

He winks, biting her neck, his fingers interlocking around the back of her waist. "It was totally a lap dance, and I enjoyed every, _every_, minute of it, Crazy."

She sighs. "Stop calling me that, I find it offensive to my personality."

He's about to offer a witty retort when he sees the hurt flash through her eyes. He blows a stray hair out of her eyes, and tightens his grip around her waist.

"What's this really about?"

She shrugs, avoiding eye contact, fiddling her thumbs behind his head.

"I'm waiting, Berry. Tick tock, tick tock."

"I was talking to Quinn earlier today, and she told me that you're not a relationship type of boy, and that it's _only_ been two days, and you're already bored of me because I'm not your type, and we have nothing in common, and there's no reason for you to stay with me, and we haven't slept together. I know, _know, _we agreed to be in a fake relationship for the sake of making Finn jealous but still, I heard all these rumors today about you and other girls, and it bothered me." The words come out in a rush, and Rachel feels like an _ass_, convinced any minute now Puck is going to push her off this comfortable position she's found herself in, and laugh hysterically in her face.

Silently, he looks at her, and cusps the side of her face with his free hand, his thumb circling her cheekbone.

"You're not my type, and I don't know you well enough to know if we have _nothing_ in common but trust me, Berry. You're the _least_ boring person I know. Fake relationship or not, I don't cheat and I have no interest in cheating on you, either. If only for the simple reason I'm pretty frightened of what you could to to me if you get angry. You could probably castrate me with those tiny fists of yours."

She nods, a hesitant smile escaping by the image of her doing _anything_ to him, and lets his words comfort her, and tries to concentrate on her heart, the beat ricocheting around the organ like a drum.

"Oh, and Berry?" He whispers softly.

"Yes?" She leans back to _finally_ make eye contact, and she waits for him to speak.

"Every boy is a relationship boy when he finds that girl."

He feels her smile into his chest, and he absentmindedly plays with strands of her hair, leaning his head onto her shoulder, closing his eyes.

And that's how the rest of the Glee kids found them ten minutes later, Mercedes screeching in everyone's ears, Quinn and Santana wearing matching expressions of horror, and Finn, Finn trying to stifle the vomit worming its way up his throat.

"You guys are revolting. Get a room." Santana's upper lip curls in disgust as she makes her way to the back of the room.

"We did get a room, it's not our fault you guys chose the same room too."

Puck lets Rachel readjust her positioning, so her back is on his front, and his hands are around her stomach instead, but stiffens his grip to make sure she doesn't get up.

"Rachel, maybe you want to move to a different position? I mean, seat. _Seat_." Mr. Schuester looks away uncomfortably, as Rachel makes a small movement to get off Puck, but is stopped.

"I'm pretty comfortable like this, I think we can continue."

Mr. Schuester rolls his eyes, and begins that afternoon's session.

Halfway through, Puck finds himself bored, and his mouth finds Rachel's ear. Whispering, he begins a conversation.

"Hey, Berry?"

"Mmmm? Pay attention."

"Can you do it again later?"

"Maybe if you pay attention now."

He grins, and leans back in his chair.

_Author's Note_: If Rachel were to hum a song, I would imagine it would have been 'Womanizer' by Britney Spears, given his reputation.

PS. You guys break my heart with the reviews :( I love reading your feedback and I never get enough :(


	12. The One with the List

A/N: I'm glad you guys liked the previous chapter! I wrote two chapters today since I need to get away from the angst from HB. As always, reviews are love.

_Day_ 3 – The One with the List

It begins at lunch time, the Glee kids sharing a table and making a list. The list makes its round around the table, passing from girl to girl, each one scribbling comments and critiques, and Rachel flicks the paper away, curling her upper lip in disgust, and goes back to finishing her Spanish homework. She would have finished the homework yesterday but in the midst of rumors floating around school, Glee and lap dances, she forgot there were assignments due.

"Rachel _has _to have a list, she has a list for everything."

"A list for what? Scoot over, Berry. You can't hog all the space."

Rachel gives Puck a dirty look as he plops himself down next to her, shoving fries in his mouth. She itched to call him something uncouth, but decided to keep the peace in front of Finn. She would be a _wonderful_ pseudo girlfriend.

"Oh, _please_, Berry. You moved like an inch." He jab jab _jabs_, her in the ribs to get her to move another inch.

"And don't think you ignore my question."

Moving over to give him additional space, a twinge of wistfulness escapes with her answer.

"The girls, myself excluded, are making lists of their dream boys, which I find rather silly."

"It's because I'm clearly everything on that list, right?"

Rachel rolls her eyes at his inflated sense of confidence. "_Clearly_."

He flashes her a grin, and steals the French fries off her plate when she looks away, he's finished his in one mouthful.

"Well, I'm waiting."

Rachel looks back at him, giving him a perplexed look. "Waiting for what?"

He rolls his eyes, ignoring her hostile glare at his takeover of her food. He makes another move to steal a mushroom off her pizza when her hand swats his. She makes a face as if to hiss at him, and he's frightened, and mentally jots down a reminder to ask her later if she can hiss.

"_Your_ list, Berry. Your list."

She fidgets uncomfortably. "Do we really _have_ to do this?"

He nods, and his hand automatically moves to wipe the small inkblot her pen has left on her cheek.

She sighs, rather loudly.

"Obviously, I like boys with very strong voices, voices that compliment my own."

"Check." Finn and Puck say this in unison, leading to dropped mouths across the table. Kurt and Mercedes exchange looks, grateful Quinn wasn't here to witness that little scene. Puck shoots Finn a dirty look, and puts his arm around Rachel, moving in even closer, which apparently, doesn't go unnoticed by Finn.

"If you move any closer to her, you'll be sitting on her lap."

Puck does a fist pump, and plops a sloppy kiss on the side of Rachel's forehead.

"Excellent, that means I can return the favor for yesterday."

Finn slouches, and Rachel turns bright red, but makes no effort to move away.

"Continue, Berry. I'm curious. I need to make sure I'm perfect, and that everyone else knows it, too."

"I want a boy who texts randomly."

Puck looks confused. "What's the point of that?"

Rachel shrugs. "I don't know, I guess it shows he's thinking of me, and he misses me."

Puck nods, and motions for an exasperated Rachel to continue.

"Someone who won't cry when I beat them at video games."

Puck narrows his eyes. "No one beats me at video games."

She smirks. "You haven't played with me."

"After school, your house. We're on." He stabs at the cafeteria salad. No _one_ beats him at video games.

Unprompted this time, Rachel continues.

"You know, the regular stuff girls swoon over. Someone who smells nice, and can play songs on the guitar, and has a zombie survival kit, in case they take over the world like Matt keeps suggesting. And, the regular fundamentals. I don't want to be with someone who's _settling_ to be with me."

Mentally, Puck thinks check, check, check. Then he shakes his head, he's in this for a _month_. He shouldn't be worried if he meets the criteria on some stupid list, anyway.

"Anything else?"

"It would be nice to meet a boy who knows the difference between your and you're."

Puck tries not to laugh, figures Berry would pick something grammar related for that last piece of her list.

"They're both the same, Rach." Sometimes, it's cute when Finn speaks, like a puppy who needs attention.

"No, you're _just _incapable of properly employing the second-person possessive noun."

Rachel squeals at Puck knowing the difference, and brings her hand to Puck's face.

"My boy's better than _theirs_."

Puck can't help but smile, her enthusiasm, even at grammar, is overwhelming. He flashes her a cheesy grin, and wonders when he became _that_ guy, especially in a relationship like this. _And_ she said he's better than Finn.

"So is my girl."


	13. The One with the Video Games

_Day_ 3B – The One with the Video Games

Rachel tries to stifle the feeling of disappointment when she sees Puck run out of the room after Glee, not bothering to wave or acknowledge her as he goes.

The video game plans were just a ruse for Finn, she thinks wistfully. Still, it would have been nice to spend time with someone, _anyone_, after school.

She makes her way home, dropping her house keys on the hallway table, and kicks off her shoes to go lay down on her sofa. Her dads aren't home, they're never home, and this house is lonely enough for one. Just as she's closed her eyes, ready to drift off to sleep, the doorbell rings.

Yawning, she walks over to open the door, and rubs her eyes as she sees who's standing there.

"Hey, Puck. What are you doing here?"

He looks at her, confused, and pushes his way past her into her house.

"Do you suffer from memory loss, Berry? I _told_ you that there would be a video game match after school. Sorry I'm late, though. I had to stop by and pick up snacks. I figured your fridge would be filled with vegetables and the five food groups, and I don't roll that way when I play video games. Or do anything, really."

Rachel blinks, and wonders what parallel universe she's fallen into. He _did_ come. He drops the bags on her sofa, and looks at her with a shake of his head. He rubs his hands together, an excited look finding its way into his eyes.

"Break out your games, Berry, and prepare to meet your master."

She kinks an eyebrow, and watches as he tears through packages of soda and a various assortment of junk food.

"_Berry_. I'm waiting."

She laughs at his tone, and goes to break out her Wii from underneath the TV table.

The two of them are silent, as they create their avatars, until Rachel sees a frustrated Puck out of the corner of her eye.

"Stop looking so grumpy."

"I can't. I need his Mohawk to be _perfect_."

"It's an avatar, Puck. Stop taking things so seriously."

"You don't understand, and I can't expect you to understand when your avatar looks like a mixture of a toddler and an old person."

"Yeah, well, your mii is unbalanced. If I were you, I would be more concerned with losing."

Puck narrows his eyes, and offers a grunt in reply. There is _no_ way that Rachel will win him at Wii.

Two hours later, with the jaws of victory in her grasp, Rachel throws her hands in the air, and squeals.

"I won, I won, I _won_. I _am _better than you, na na na na."

She begins to do the victory dance, her fingers sticking in the air, and she runs away from him when he tries to catch her.

He topples on her in that instant, a mixture of limbs falling onto her living room carpet, and his weight on her forces her to forget her breath.

"You're a sore winner, Berry." He speaks in a whispered tone, his face dangerously close to hers.

She keeps still, and sitting up on her elbows, tilts her head, lifting it to meet his.

"You're a sore loser, Puckerman."

She takes a breath, and makes the first move. She kisses him as the Glee kids open her front door, and barrel into her living room.

They break apart at the sounds, but he doesn't get off, and she looks into his eyes, wondering if the look of disappointment in his eyes is only a reflection of hers.

"Don't you look your doors, Rachel?"

"This is Lima, Finn. Who would steal anything here, anyway?" Tina replies before Rachel could. Not that Rachel could, she was still trying to catch her breath.

Matt clears his throat, and Puck and Rachel both turn their heads to look at him.

"Do you two, uh, plan on getting up?"

Puck sighs, and stands, sticking out a hand for Rachel to grab onto to do the same.

Man, he thinks. My friends pick the _worst_ times to show their face.


	14. The One with the Cat

_Day_ 4 – The One with the Animals (that turned into The One with the Double Date)

After the impromptu visit by the Glee kids at her house the prior day, Rachel began to think, and to think. Then, she thought some more, and decided that her house needed more activity bustling about. She couldn't fill it with strangers and teenagers on a consistent basis, so she had to think of the next best thing. Quite simply, the best way to achieve this goal would be to purchase an animal of some sorts, perhaps from the local animal shelter.

She's on her way out the door after Glee when Puck corners her and prevents her from walking out.

"Where are you off to?"

"I'm visiting the local pet shelter in search of a pet."

"Why can't you go to the zoo and get your fill there?"

"Because, _then_, I can't take the said animal home with me."

"You can't take your relatives home from there, either, but that doesn't stop you from visiting."

"My relatives are only when they're there visiting yours."

"Touche, Berry. Touche."

She taps her foot impatiently, and waits for him to move from her vicinity. Truth be told, she's still feeling the residual effects from their kiss yesterday, and he hasn't brought it up, and she's scared to broach the conversation first.

"Who are you going with?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead. I was debating going solo, or perhaps, ask Finn for his expertise. Finn likes animals. He would know how to advise me on this situation."

Puck rolled his eyes at the thought of Finn and animals in the same sentence. He doesn't point out the similarities between Finn and a giant bear, one that can be cuddled with and then muzzled.

"I'm going with you." This is a total _coupley _thing to do, and he is not letting Finn worm his way into this activity. Or spend time with Berry, for that matter.

Rachel blinks. "I didn't know you were appreciative of small woodland creatures."

"I'm not. I just want to tag along for the hilarity this event will become."

He swings an arm over her shoulders, his mouth finding the base of her neck. "And, of course, spend time with you, dear."

Rachel, putting her hands on her hips, let out a frustrated sigh.

"Well, come along then, _boyfriend_. Before the good ones get taken."

Puck wants to point out that's unlikely, given that they are visiting the shelter, but he keeps his mouth closed. He doesn't need her driving him off into a ditch.

When they arrive, Rachel weaves her fingers with Puck's, for no clear reason that she can determine but he doesn't shake her off, so she supposes that is a start. Or maybe he's holding onto her because they're in public, and someone may see they're not really together, and then she'll never make Finn jealous enough to break up with Quinn.

She shakes thoughts of the other couple from her mind, and attempts to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Come on, I need you r opinion on which one to choose."

"Cat or dog?"

Rachel purses her lips in thought.

"A cat would be nice, I don't know if I have the appropriate time necessary for raising a dog."

"Cat it is. Do you want to take that side, and I'll take this side?"

Rachel nods. "Call me if you see anything."

Puck wanders around the aisles, actively searching for something Berry would like. His gaze finally settles in on a Cat, a grumpy expression covering its features.

"I think you're perfect for her."

The Cat stares.

"You're grumpy, but I think with the amount of love she'll suffocate you with, you might just end up being happy with her. And then, she'll be happy with you and you'll fit into a nice, small fuzzy spot in her heart."

The Cat continues to stare, and Puck continues to ramble.

"Underneath that hyperactive exterior of hers, I'm pretty sure she has feelings. I'm pretty sure she's dripping with love inside, and Finn will be happy to have her give it to him, and then they can have creepy, happy children together. It's only been four days, you know, and Finn is already filled with jealousy. Then, it's all over for me and her."

The Cat doesn't blink.

"It's all over and it hasn't even started. Life, Cat, is _so _unfair. And you're in a cage, so I suppose you understand."

"Are you _talking_ to the Cat?"

Puck shakes his head frantically at the sound of her voice, pissed he's been caught.

"I'm _bad ass_, Berry. I don't need to talk to animals to express myself."

Rachel looks at him, failing at wiping the smile off her face.

"You were talking to the _Cat_."

Puck sighs a heavy sigh. "Fine, maybe I was. Only because I was asking his approval on the feline you've picked out."

"Oh, _Puck_. Underneath that macho bravado, you have feelings. I'm very pleased."

She continues looking at him with eyes covered in adoration. He decides it's not half bad to see her looking at her with those eyes.

"I picked out a Cat, but I guess I'm going to need to get both. Since you're talking to this one, it could be deemed trustworthy."

"Whatever, Berry. Let's get your animal and grab dinner. I'm starved."

Grabbing the original carrier she's holding out of her hands, Puck holds it with one hand as she links her arm with his.

Walking into the diner, after they've dropped off the Cat(s) at her home with food and various toys to play with, Puck drives the pair to the nearest diner. Walking in, the two are engrossed in conversation, and unaware that Finn and Quinn are sitting there as well, until Finn calls them over.

"Hey, guys! You should come join us, we have plenty of room."

Rachel isn't enjoying the enthusiasm in Finn's voice, and has a limited desire to join him and his girlfriend for dinner but Puck takes her hand, and tugs her along.

_As always, reviews are love._

_If you have any suggestions for activities and what not, let me know. I'm slightly stumped._


	15. The One with the Double Date

_Day_ 4B – The One with the Double Date

Puck doesn't know why he tugs Rachel's hand to join Finn and Quinn for dinner.

Judging by the perplexed expression on Rachel's face, evidently, neither does she.

Quite a square we've formed ourselves into, Puck thinks. He should have just waved greetings of acknowledgement, or something or other. This _cannot_ end well.

Plopping a kiss on the side of Rachel's forehead, he drops her hand to sit next to Quinn, while Rachel sits next to Finn, who moves over to allow her to join him. Puck stares at her, sitting next to his best friend, and tries to imagine her with his best friend, tries to imagine a solid relationship between the goofy giant and Berry.

He sits there next to Quinn, and he tries to imagine himself dating her, and his mind draws a blank, and he wonders if that's what a relationship with Quinn is like, _blank_.

Puck plays with his menu, noticing Rachel fidgeting across from him. He wonders if she's uncomfortable being in such close proximity with Finn, or if she's itching to get closer. He wonders which one he detests and/or prefers more.

"Well, we already ordered, we're just waiting for the food to arrive." Finn says, breaking the quiet, tapping his fingers on the table anxiously.

Puck shoots him a look. "What did you order?"

"Some deluxe hamburger meal, super sized, with a shake."

Puck nods. "I guess I'll order the same."

"I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with fries, and a coke, please."

The two hand over their menus when the waitress comes to take their order, and Finn attempts to begin a conversation.

"It's nice to see a girl with a healthy appetite." Finn remarks, forgetting his girlfriend is sitting across from him at the table.

"I have an unhealthy obsession with bacon. I eat it all the time."

"That's because you're a pig."

Rachel's eyes widen at Quinn's comment, and she watches as Puck elbows her in the ribs.

"And you're a rat, but nobody gives you shit about it."

Quinn opens her mouth to retort, but seeing the look on Finn's face, she falls silent.

"So, where did you two come from?" Finn asks, eager to put the pig comment behind them.

"Local animal shelter. We picked up two cats." Puck answers, looking across at Rachel.

"Yeah, and I found Puck . . ." That's the extent of her sentence, Puck kicks her underneath the table before she has a chance to finish Puck _talks_ to _Cats_.

Finn looks confused, and looks back and forth between the two. "Found Puck what?"

"Nothing. It was nothing." She looks back at Puck, innocently shrugging his shoulders about his kick.

"It must be nice having cats in the house. Now you actually have something to snuggle with at night." Quinn says, a lazy smile turning at the corners of her mouth.

"It's still warmer than the Bible you fall asleep hugging." Rachel retorts, causing the other girl to narrow her eyes.

"Besides, if I get cold, I'm sure I could invite Puck over to keep me warm. Body heat for warmth is an acceptable substitute for a heater." Rachel continues, winking at Puck.

He nods in agreement, a serious expression on his features. He bites the inside of his cheek to try not to laugh.

"So, what? You two are sleeping together now?" Finn chokes on the water he was taking a sip of, and Quinn gives him a dirty look prior to continuing. "That must be why you two are in a relationship, you haven't slept with him yet. Normally, Puck sticks with one night stands. I wouldn't sleep with him too quickly, then."

"I think you should keep your mouth shut, Quinn. Your jealousy is very unbecoming." Rachel comments, and Quinn doesn't have a chance to respond, their food has arrived.

The square begins to concentrate on the food, and the conversation has hit a standstill. Finn tries to ignore his stomach curling at the thought of Rachel and Puck having sex, Quinn tries to ignore the looks Puck sneaks Rachel, and really, why do Puck and Rachel keep looking at each other and shrugging?

Rachel chews her food silently, barely tasting it, and makes a mental note to throw a tantrum for this at Puck later.

"Will you be ordering anything for dessert?" Twenty minutes later, and the waitress is the first to break the silent spell that descended on the table.

"None for me, thank you." Quinn replied.

Finn shakes his head, apparently stuffed.

Puck looks at Rachel, and she looks back, telepathically communicating they _have_ to have dessert.

"I'll just take the cheesecake, please." Rachel says, handing back the menu to the waitress.

"Brownie sundae, thanks."

"You two make a cute couple," remarked the waitress off-handly, shooting a smile at Finn and Rachel.

Rachel begins to stammer there's been a misunderstanding, when she's cut off by Finn, who shoots her a gracious smile as a means of thanks.

"Why didn't you tell her she was wrong?" Quinn hissed when the waitress left, the venom noticeable in her voice.

Finn shrugged, and continued stabbing at his lettuce. He wishes he kept his mouth shut when he saw Puck and Rachel enter.

As the square waits for the order of dessert, an uncomfortable silence descends on the table.

Rachel feels a hand underneath the table searching for her leg, and looks at Puck, smirking. She shoots a smile back, and figures her feet could use a massage, anyway, and props her legs on his lap. His fingers move to take off her boots, and his fingers rub into her ankles, underneath her socks to touch skin. She's never had a foot massage before, but she's pretty sure any future ones would be difficult to top this feeling spreading through her body.

Once the dessert comes, Rachel and Puck pick off each other's plates, much to the dismay of Finn and Quinn.

Rachel looks over at Puck, chocolate grazing his lower lip and leans over to kiss it off, leaving a surprised Puck in her wake.

She smiles shyly. "You had chocolate."

He smirks. "You just miss my lips, Berry."

She rolls her eyes, and watches Finn signal for the check. He's had enough of this.

Once the bill has been paid, the guys were nice enough to pick up the check for the girls, Rachel is eager enough to get away from the disaster that this was, and nearly runs over Finn to hug Puck for comfort.

Finn looks alarmed when he sees Rachel rush into Puck's arms.

"Rachel, why aren't you wearing shoes? Didn't you come here with shoes?"

She shrugs, and watches Puck bend to pick up her boots from underneath the table.

She sits down, waiting for him to hand over her shoes so she could put them on, when he bends down to put them on for her instead.

"Must have fallen off easily. You should get those shoes checked into." Puck says, and grabs her hand to steady her when she stands up again.

"Thanks."

He kisses her on her forehead, and rubs her palm with his thumb.

"Anytime."

"Well, I'd love to say this has been a pleasure and we should do it again, but that would be a lie, and the Bible frowns on lying."

Rachel eyes Quinn, Quinn who's made no effort to hide the distaste for her through out the meal and speaks before she can change her mind.

"The Bible also frowns on people that are small minded, and impolite. I guess they didn't teach you that in Sunday school. I'm Jewish, and even I'm aware of that. It was nice seeing you, Finn."

With that comment, Rachel gently tugs at Puck's hand to leave the diner.

As the two walk out, Rachel leans in to whisper in Puck's ear.

"You _owe_ me for that shit."


	16. The One with the Closet

AN: In case it matters, Bobby is her old cat that ran away one day. Hence, she got two new cats.

_Day _5 – The One with the Closet

"Did you name them?" Puck's voice booms into the room, startling Rachel out of her concentration on her music notes, and she looks up at him.

"Name who?"

"The Cats, Berry. The _Cats_."

Rachel kinks an eyebrow, and looks at Puck quizzically.

"No, I haven't had ample opportunity to sit down and debate what appropriate name to give them. There are a few options I've considered, Bobby not being one of them. I've been a bit upset at him ever since, well, he ran away."

Puck rolls his eyes at her, the big vocabulary and long sentences are _back_. Sometimes, he wonders why more people don't escape from her and these speeches.

"Fine, I'm coming over after school so we can do it together."

Ignoring his comment, and his lack of manners regarding invitations, Rachel focuses on his unusual early attendance to Glee. Also, she doesn't believe he wants to visit her house for an afternoon to name _Cats_.

"You're here early."

"Whatever."

"Why are you here early? It's a good indicator of your level of commitment to this activity."

Puck ignores her, his eyes narrowing at the growing voices coming towards their room. Before he could think, he grabs Rachel's hand and settles into the closet with her, closing the door and sitting on the floor. He looks over at Rachel, and clamps his hand on her mouth to prevent her from speaking.

"Don't _speak_, Berry." She nods her head frantically, her eyes widening. She keeps still for less than a minute, and then begins to jab Puck in his ribs with her fingers, her whispering voice slowly increasing by decibels.

"We're hiding in a closet, Puck. _Spying_. I'll have you know this is inappropriate behavior for an upcoming star such as myself."

Puck stays silent, ignoring the beginning of her long winded speech, and continues trying to stare outside the small peephole of the closet door. He can't figure out who's wandering around the room, and he's still a little hesitant to appear out of the closet in case it's an intruder, or a zombie. The zombie apocalypse has been predicted for weeks, and he can't believe he forgot his survival kit at home today. Of all days.

"Puck." He still makes no effort to respond to her, making hand gestures and hushing motions at her.

"Puck."

"Puck."

"_Puck_." He barely gives a glance at Rachel whispering his name, and the early frustration that is beginning to set in for her. Rachel leans back against the small space alloted to her, and debates her options for escape. Brilliantly, her thoughts turn a _wonderful_ idea to get Puck to pay attention.

She jabs him in the ribs, he hisses.

"What was _that_ for?"

"You're _not_ paying attention to _me._"

"Look, Berry. If you keep quiet, we'll be out of here in no time."

Rachel exhales, she can't wait that long, and breathes, and climbs on top of Puck.

"You're sitting on me."

She grabs his face with one hand, determined to be an authority figure and get his attention.

"I want to leave this closet, and I want to leave _now_."

A small smirk plays on Puck's mouth, and his hands circle her waist.

"Right now?"

She nods. Surprisingly, this position is a lot comfortable than anticipated, especially considering the amount of closet space the two of them are sharing.

"Like _right_ now right now?"

She nods again.

"That's too bad, Berry, because now that you're straddling me in a closet, in a limited space, with your body _so_ close to mine, I don't think we're going anywhere."

He moves his head down to kiss her, and one hand travels through her hair, as the other travels beneath her shirt to position on her hip bone. She doesn't protest, she _knew_ this would happen, there's no sense in pushing him away now. It's as if she wanted this to happen, anyway. She has one hand underneath his shirt, as well, her hand touching his skin creating miniature lighting bolts in her fingers, and the other is traveling across his Mohawk, surprised by how soft his hair feels.

The two, preoccupied in their full fledged make out session, hear nothing of the Glee kids that storm their way into the practice room.

Brittany is the one that flings open the closet door, exposing Puck and Rachel's hiding spot, the one they're currently engaging in less than platonic affairs with.

"Ah, _fuck_." Puck says, tearing his eyes away from Rachel to all of the Glee kids eyes on him, his hand still on Rachel's hip bone, her hand underneath his shirt. Rachel looks at him, and looks back at the Glee kids, still open mouthed, and reaches for the handle, slamming the closet door back again, the pair still inside.

She looks at him, an incredulous expression on his face. Worried she misinterpreted the kiss they were about to exchange in, she does what she does best. She begins a ramble but in a whisper so only he can hear.

"Was that the wrong thing to do? I'm _sorry_, it just seemed like you wanted to continue kissing me, evident by both your facial expression and the vulgarity that escaped from your mouth."

He looks at her, and moves in to kiss her. He feels the smile tugging upwards of her mouth, and leans away to catch his breath, giving her the opportunity to speak.

"I know, I _know_ you're only a fake boyfriend used to make Finn jealous but you didn't kiss me like you were my fake boyfriend, you kissed me like you were my _real_ boyfriend, and it felt nice."

He gives her a quick kiss when she's finished, and stares at her pensively.

"Berry, be _quiet_ and enjoy the moment."

And he leans in to continue kissing her in the closet.


	17. The One with the Naming Ceremony

_Author's Note_: You guys are so silly! (But I love all your reviews and hold them tight when they come in on my blackberry) They can't get together for real _that_ quickly. I'm still keeping them on the 30 day mark for a relationship (which will be addressed in the next chapter) Plus, this story is lighthearted enough for me to balance out the angst of HBW. I need this to go on longer, lol.

After they break apart from the kiss, Puck untangles his hands from Rachel's hair, and moves on to the edge of her face.

"Hi."

"Hi."

She looks at him, smiling wildly and then realizes they're still sitting in the closet.

"Do you think we should move from our space here? What if they're worried that we've died from the deprivation of oxygen?"

Puck shakes his head. "I doubt they would care, after you slammed the door in their face."

She blushes. "I forgot about that. Do you think they mind?"

Not waiting for a response, she gently moves off him, careful not to elbow him in any body parts, and stands up, sticking out her hand.

"Come on, let's go face the real world."

He grabs her hand, and they move from their space, out to the Glee kids turning to look and a shocked Mr. Schuester, who does a double take.

"Where did you guys _even_ come from?"

Rachel shrugs, and Puck tries to stifle a grin.

"Really? You didn't see us?" Rachel attempts to keep an innocent tone but judging by the expression in her eyes, she fails miserably. She puts her hand on her mouth, a feeble attempt to fake a yawn but really, she uses it to conceal her laughter.

Mr. Schuester shakes his head. "I haven't seen either of you during this session before."

"I don't know, Mr. Schue. We've been here the _whole_ time." Puck replies casually, shooting a confused expression at Rachel.

Mr. Schuester throws his hands in the air, wondering what he's missed between their exchanged looks.

"Well, you would know then, that we're more or less done for the day here, so I'll see you all tomorrow." He starts packing his things, muttering under his breath.

Rachel drops Puck's hand, he leaves to talk to other members of the football team, she goes to grab her things when she's corned by Artie.

"The rumors are true, I take it."

Throwing a quick glance his way, she nods. "You have my confirmation."

"What do you two even have conversations about? You have like, less than nothing in common. Though, I mean, given how you guys are found in uncompromising positions, maybe that's why you don't need words."

Rachel looks hurt, his words only a harsh reminder of what everyone else thinks.

"I don't think my relationship with him is any of your business. And for the record, this is _only_ the _third_ time we've been found like this."

She finishes packing her things, and walks out, barely giving an acknowledgement to anyone else.

On the other side of the room, Puck who had been talking to Matt and Mike, watches her go, and flips out his phone. Typing in a quick comment in an attempt to make her laugh, he continues his conversation with the guys.

Putting her key in the ignition, Rachel hears her blackberry ring, and takes it out to read the new message.

(917) Be at your house in 40. Can't wait to name our kids!!

Looking at it, she breaks into a fit of laughter. On the drive home, she reflects on the kiss they shared in the closet, and resolves maybe she's putting too much thought into this, too much emphasis where there should be none. She's still debating whether or not to bring up the topic when she drops her car keys on the counter.

True to his word, he shows up at her door promptly forty minutes later, unlocking the door and entering her home without ringing the doorbell.

Startled by the noise, she drops the Cat she was holding, the Cat clawing her feet in retaliation when he falls down.

"Don't you know how to _knock_?"

Puck shrugs. "I prefer the element of surprise."

Ignoring her glare, he kicks off his shoes to settle into the pillows and blankets of her couch, he leans back.

"Next time, knock. Or ring the bell. It's the polite thing to do, and it won't give me a heart attack."

"Sure thing, Berry. Where are our kids?" He changes the subject back to the real reason he came by, there's no way he could let her name them on her own. God only _knows_ what she would call them, otherwise.

"Seriously, Puck. These are not _our_ kids, they're _Cats_."

Rolling his eyes, he bends down to pick one up.

"Let's call this one Puck junior."

"Over my dead body."

He looks over at her, an amused expression evident on his face.

"That could be arranged."

"I want to name her Barbara. The cat is female, after all. In case you didn't _notice_."

"We're not naming the Cat after your idol, female or not."

"Why _not_? It's a good indicator this Cat is destined to do great things." There's an unmistakable whine in her voice, the whine Puck ignores.

"It's just a Cat, Berry. We're just not naming the Cat after Streisand, I don't care how many good indicators there are."

"Britney?"

"We're not naming the Cat after a slutty lip syncing singer, either. Can't you be more creative?"

"I don't see you being helpful."

She pouts, and he wants to trace his thumb over her lower lip.

"Fine. We'll name the feline Britney but then I get to name the other one."

Puck looks over, and realizes he's trapped naming the grumpy one he was talking to in the store, and internally, shakes his head, wondering if he can take it back.

"That's _wonderful, _and it's a good deal. You definitely lucked out on your end. This one is adorable." Holding the grumpy cat in her hands, Rachel nuzzles his face, and Puck tries to stifle his vomit.

She sticks it out to him, and stands up, smoothing out her skirt.

"I'll be right back, do you need anything from the kitchen?"

"I'm good, thanks."

Once she's disappeared, Puck stares at the Cat, staring back with an evil glint in his eye.

"I don't care what she says, you're _fucking_ grumpy."

Cat just stares back, and begins licking his paw. Puck rolls his eyes in disgust.

"At least you're sanitary."

Puck continues staring, his eyes flicking around the living room. Surprisingly enough, she hasn't brought up the kiss between them earlier, and he's engaged in an internal battle himself whether to open his mouth first. He's engrossed at trying to make out the picture across the room, and in thoughts of the kiss, that he doesn't hear Rachel come in.

"Are you talking to them again?"

He shakes his head, smirking. "Does it look like I am?"

"No, but maybe now you're communicating through telepathy."

Puck shoots her a dirty look for making fun of his _many_ quirks. "Cats need conversation too. I'm surprised you're not talking to them. They're perfect for you, given your ability to carry on long stretches of conversation by yourself."

Rachel puts her hands on her hips. "I find that to be offensive and uncouth of you, Puck."

He just grins at her, she can be adorable at _times_.

"I think your face is offensive and uncouth, Berry."

Her mouth widens in a surprised _o_, and she moves in to swat his arm. He saw that one coming, prepared for it, his quick reflexes grab her arm tug her onto the couch with him.

"What are you naming the other Cat?"

"Cat. Or Puck Junior."

"You're naming the Cat _Cat_? Or after yourself? How egotistical." She looks at him perplexed, debating starting a fight over naming rights. She doesn't know if she could survive in this household with a Cat named Cat, or worse, a Cat named _Puck_.

"Yes, ma'am."

She sighs, and he realizes how tired her eyes look.

He tugs her down to him, trying to get her to lay down, and failing.

"Go to sleep, Berry. You need to learn how to relax."

Sighing she lays down, molding herself to match Puck's frame, and lets her eyes close, his hand interlaced with hers.

"For five minutes. When we wake up, I want to have an actual ceremony. Like a baptizing." Rachel mumbles, her voice falling into sleep quickly.

Puck doesn't have the heart to break the news to her that Cats _hate_ water, he just kisses the top of her head and closes his eyes.

And that is how Rachel's parents found them two hours later.

AN: As always, reviews are love. Some of you have asked questions in your reviews. Do you prefer if I respond to your comments individually? Or if I respond in Author's Notes at the beginning of every chapter?

AN #2: Also, I realize that both her and Puck are Jewish, and therefore, don't baptize but Google is being unhelpful, so for now it stays.


	18. The One Continued

Her dads look at the pair, nestled on the couch, Puck's arm over Rachel's waist, Rachel's arm hanging off the couch, and then look back at each other.

"What do you think we should do? Is there a protocol for this? Perhaps an iPhone application?" Her dad, Alan, asks first, quietly whispering to not wake the two. He hasn't had much experience with Rachel and boys, she rarely dates, much less brings home to sleep on the couch with. He debates taking out his iPhone, and looking for the answers there.

(All the answers can be found via iPhone)

Her other dad, Sam, shrugged. "Why are you asking me?"

Alan shakes his head, exasperated. Sometimes, this man could be so _obtuse_. "Do you see anyone else around that I could inquire with?"

"No, but I haven't looked." Sam looks around, trying to play cute, and notices the Cats.

"Why are there _animals_ in our house?"

Alan rolls his eyes. "That's not the question you should be asking at this moment. You should be asking why our daughter is curled on our couch with a boy who looks like a juvenile delinquent, and how we should fix the situation. _Then_, you can ask about the animals."

The two continue staring at this new development in the Berry household, until Sam is the first one to speak.

"Let's go make dinner. Or order something."

"You're kidding, right? We haven't even decided what we're going to do about _that_." Alan makes a face, gesturing to Rachel and Puck.

"What's there to do? They're both asleep. What is he going to do, kidnap her while we're in the kitchen?"

"Fine, but throw a blanket over them or something. It's a bit chilly in this room. I'd rather not have her damage her vocal chords."

Sam grabs the blanket from the other love seat, and gingerly places it on top of the sleepers, following Alan into the kitchen.

An hour or so later, Rachel opens her eyes, confronted with a still sleeping Puck, and a warm blanket covering her. Huh, she thinks. I don't remember the blanket being here before. She nudges him awake, nudging and nudging until he opens an eye.

"You sleep like the dead." She remarks, catching an amused smile at him. He grunts, and stuffs his head back underneath the covers, fidgeting.

"I just wanted to also tell you thank you, I appreciate you getting up while I was sleeping and covering us with the blanket."

Suddenly, she feels the body next to her tense. Slowly, she watches his head emerge from underneath the blankets.

"I didn't cover us with the blanket. I thought _you_ did."

She looks at him, and shakes her head. "I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow."

He sits still for a minute, his eyes widening. "Do you think there are ninjas? Like right now? Inside this house?"

She rolls her eyes. "Of _all_ things. Why would ninjas cover us in blankets?"

He shrugs. "Ninjas are peculiar. They have _specific _reasons for doing _fucking_ awesome things. Like blankets."

Just as Rachel is about to reply, her mouth is frozen by the crash in the kitchen.

"Aren't ninjas supposed to be more, I don't know, _stealthy_?"

Her voice comes out in a frantic whisper, and she looks in the direction of the kitchen nervously. She _knew_ falling asleep would be poor judgment on her part.

She feels Puck crawl over her body, his leg elbowing her in the stomach, and dust off the wrinkles on his clothes. He sticks out his hand, and she stares. Why is he giving her his hand in a time _like_ this? He should be running off to search the premises, not hand hold.

Sensing her thoughts, he speaks before she can inquire.

"Let's go investigate."

Gingerly, she grabs his hand and intertwines his fingers with hers, letting him lead the way. Obviously, if he's willing to play the part of the valiant and courageous protector, he should walk into the face of danger _first_. Hiding behind his frame, she walks right into him when he suddenly stops.

"So, you must be the juvenile delinquent we noticed earlier on the couch."

Rachel doesn't have to see the face to match the voice.

"Daddy!" She jumps from out behind Puck, and throws herself into her father's arms.

"It's _so_ wonderful to see you both. How was the trip? Did you bring me anything? I've missed you both _so_ much Thank _God_ you're back. The house has been terribly lonely." Alan waits for her ramble to slow down prior to interrupting. He's learned better than to interrupt Rachel in one of her tangents.

"It's great to see you too, pumpkin. Are you going to introduce us?" He gestures at Puck, who is standing with his hands in his pockets, looking around sheepishly.

(Puck does _not_ do parents. Especially two dads. Dads _hate _him. He doesn't have to even question why. Puck is a _stud_, and by extension, a threat to sleep with both daughters _and_ mothers.)

"Noah, Noah Puckerman, sir." He sticks out his hand for them to shake, which they do, quite forcefully. He hopes that they'll start with a small topic, something related to the weather. He hears there's a snow storm on its way to Ohio. He could impress them with that knowledge.

(Is weather ever impressive?)

"What are your intentions with our daughter?"

Puck, who was taking a sip of water, begins to choke, and cough.

"Well, we're friends."

(What else is he going to say? He's participating in charades with her to make a boy with a girlfriend jealous? _Please_.)

Alan nods, as in perfect understanding.

"Friends who sleep together on couches?"

"Yes. No, I mean, _no_. No."

(This is awkward.)

"What kind of friends, then? I'm a little behind on the times, so I'd like for you to catch me up to speed." Alan looks at Puck, waiting for a response, and Puck is frightened. _Very_ frightened. He looks on at Rachel helplessly, thinking if she's ever wanted to interrupt, now would be the _best_ time ever.

(She doesn't get the hint)

"Friends. We go to school together. The couch scene, uh, that was an accident."

Alan looks as though he's ready to inquire more into the status of their relationship when Sam elbows him in the ribs, eliciting a wince from Alan.

"Why are there animals in this house, Rachel?" Sam speaks up, getting a word in edgewise.

"Ever since Bobby ran away, I've been lonely."

Sam nods to her response. "Were they giving them out at the synagogue?"

"No, at a local shelter but well, we were planning on putting the Cats through a conversion ceremony. Having picked them up from the shelter, I'm not positive they're Jewish. I was going to convert them through the usage of the Jewish water ceremony. I believe it's called the Mikveh, but I could be incorrect."

Sam and Alan exchange looks. This _cannot_ end well.

"That's fine, dear. You two may be excused. I'll see you later for dinner."

Rachel smiles gleefully, and grabs Puck's hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room, where she locked the Cats in earlier. They each pick up a Cat, and carry it into the bathroom, and close the door but leave it slightly ajar. As they wait for the tub to fill with water, Puck glances over at her.

"You realize this plan can go one of two ways right?"

She looks at him quizzically. "Which two?"

"Either you _or_ I will be scratched, or we'll _both _be scratched. Those are the only things that are going to happen right now so be prepared."

She shakes her head. "Come on, don't be such a negative Nancy, we'll be fine."

She climbs into the bath tub, and Puck, for the life of him, _cannot_ believe he's joining her. She stands there expectantly, waiting for him to pull in the first Cat, the grumpy one he's thinking of naming PJ.

(After Puck, of course. Puck Junior. Not _that_ Puck Junior.)

He reaches to get the Cat that crawled next to the tub when the Cat scratches him, and they escape through the door that neither Rachel nor Puck thought to fasten securely.

She looks at him, and puts her head in her hands, trying not to cry at the situation she's involved herself in.

Finally, she looks up.

"We're sitting in a full tub of water, fully dressed. There are also no Cats involved in this conversion. My plan has failed."

He looks at her, and kinks an eyebrow. "We could get undressed, if that makes you feel better. The water is warm enough."

She looks at him sadly. "I was looking forward to the idea of converting the Cats."

"Stop worrying, Berry. They're still proper Jews."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

She nods, accepting his words as factual, and the two of them sit in the tub of water until it's time for him to leave.


	19. The One with the Afternoon

AN: The idea of a yarmulke came from one of my readers, notso little j. Thank you so so much!

The next day, Puck walks into school, whistling, a yarmulke in his pocket. After he left Rachel's house the previous night, he spent some time searching for a yarmulke small enough to fit a Cat. After three numb searching hours, he finally found one that looked well enough to fit. He reassures himself that this is for PJ, so the Cat doesn't live a life of religious questioning. He doesn't want his kid growing up, wondering about his spiritual heritage and then becoming _fucked_ up as a result of not knowing which religion he belongs to.

(He momentarily forgets that the yarmulke is for _Cat_, not an actual child.)

Walking through the hallways, his eyes search for Rachel, finally settling on her, standing by her locker. Jogging over to her, he nudges her locker door shut.

"Hey, Puck. To what do I owe the honor? Especially this early in the morning? Did you forget something at my house last night? I didn't find anything but maybe I didn't check properly." She doesn't turn to face him, either, continuing to flip through the contents of her locker, gathering her books for the day.

Puck opens his mouth, and feels his fingers around the yarmulke in his pocket, when Santana rushes over, enveloping Rachel in a hug.

"Rachel, can we go to your house after school?"

Rachel gazes at the brunette cheer leader. Why would _Santana_ want to come over? To her house? This is similar to the Twilight Zone, and Rachel nervously waits for the theme song to begin to play.

Puck's eyes narrow, he wonders why Santana is hugging Rachel. Since when did the two become friends? Since when is Santana even _friendly_?

She shrugs her shoulders. "Sure, if you want."

Overhearing the conversation, Brittany invites herself over, leading to Matt and Mike inviting themselves, and Mercedes and Tina chiming in. Once Mercedes and Tina chime in that they're attending, Kurt and Artie want to attend. Puck rolls his eyes and says he _has_ to attend, and then Finn and Quinn stand awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Quinn caves, and agrees to attend, with Finn following suit right after.

By the time Finn agrees to the Glee hangout after school, the morning bell rings. Puck groans, he wanted to give Rachel the yarmulke in the morning so he wouldn't be stuck with it for the reminder of the day. He's running his hand through his hair when he realizes that everyone is staring at them, waiting.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer." His words come out with a hint of growl, unintentionally.

"Why aren't you kissing Rachel good-bye?" Tina asks, tilting her head slightly to the left. Mercedes and Kurt exchange knowing looks, the countless number of times they do that is starting to piss Puck off.

(What could they possibly _know_?)

Puck rolls his eyes.

"We don't kiss with an audience. Unless you call a video camera an audience." He winks, amused at his own joke.

Everybody still stands there, and he's about to throw back another fabulous retort, when he feels Rachel's lips move onto his, her tiny body squishing his frame. He feels her hand travel through the hair he has, and the other hand thrown carelessly across his neck. He moves his hands to her waist, his mouth deepening the kiss. Hearing someone clear their throat, Puck breaks away from Rachel, his thumb flicking across the skin underneath the shirt.

"I think we may have gotten more than we bargained for." Kurt says, a mixture of jealousy and disgust evident in his eyes. Puck steals a quick glance in Finn's direction, the boy's face turned ashen from observing the kiss.

Puck grabs Rachel's hand, leading her away from their friends to their first period class. Blocking her from going in, he crosses his hands across his chest.

"Nice kiss, Berry. Think it was good enough for Finn?"

"I don't know what you're referring to, Puck."

"Sure you do, it's not as if you kissed me because we're _actually_ dating. Do you think he's jealous enough yet? Do you think he's breaking up with Quinn right now? Is your phone vibrating with a text from him?"

She stays silent, torn between her answer. She can't explain why she kissed him, it was more than about making Finn jealous but she doesn't know if she could explain that to Puck, he'd laugh hysterically in her face. It's only been six days, but she feels her feelings slowly, but not completely, eroding for Finn, fragments of her affection cutting off at the edges. She wanted to have this discussion about the status of their pseudo relationship when she slammed the closet door on them, but the topic never came up, and Puck's gone to the shelter with her, and the strange double date they found themselves on. He was with her yesterday for the Cat, he willingly came on his own. She's hopeful he wants to spend time with her but she's not that hopeful. She still wonders if this extra time together has been for the sake of appearing as a happy couple.

(She wonders why he has to sound so hurtful. She's trying to determine who's supposed to hurt who here.)

"That's the appearance we have to give everyone else so I did."

"You're a great actress, then. I really felt your emotion, really felt like you kissed me because you wanted to." He turns to walk away from her, leaving her outside the room. Shaking her head, she slowly walks inside, murmuring apologies to the teacher.

Through the day, the conversation bothers Puck more than it should. Their agreement didn't involve anything _real_, so he should have been happy. He could annoy her for more kisses and maybe other perks but he wouldn't have any of the real issues involved with relationships. That should have been what he wanted.

Surprisingly enough, Puck is the first to arrive at her house after school. Opening the door, she tries to ignore the jolt she feels inside at the sight of him. Motioning for him to come in, she watches as he kicks off his shoes.

"Hey."

"Hey. Where are the kids?"

She smiles, he still refuses to refer to the Cats as members of the animal kingdom.

"They're around. Somewhere, I think."

He nods, and she nods, and soon they're both laughing from nodding.

"I'm sorry about this morning." She's the first to speak. She has to be the first to broach the topic, she can't wait for him to make the move.

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm sorry that I kissed you." Her shoulders sag slightly.

"That was a pretty good kiss. I mean, if it was horrible, I would probably accept your apology."

She grins. "Pretty good, eh?"

"Yeah, for a fake girlfriend, anyway."

He sees her grin slip slightly, and he wants to take back what he just said, but they're interrupted by the arrival of the Glee kids, and his words become lost in the confusion. Ah, _fuck_. He thinks. That may have not been the best thing to say.

Matt and Mike disappear into the kitchen, off to scavenge for food while Finn engages in a feeble attempt to set up Rachel's video games. Dragging Rachel by the hand, Santana sits them both on the couch. The cheer leader looks at her, waiting, and Rachel becomes confused.

Finally, Santana shakes her head and sighs in exasperation.

"Tell me what it's like."

Rachel narrows her eyes. "What's what like?"

"You and Puck. I mean, I know what he's like in bed."

(Rachel feels like she's going to throw up, and swallows before the bile can leave her throat.)

"But you have him in a _relationship_. Puck doesn't do relationships. How did you get him to do it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy with me. Seriously. He's dating _you_, and judging from the looks of that kiss earlier this morning, he's enjoying it."

The doorbell rings, and Rachel gets off her place on the couch to answer it, signing for the box.

(She's grateful for the interruption from Santana.)

The group looks at her curiously, as she carelessly tosses the box up the stairs, towards the direction of her room. She sits back down, eying everyone.

"Am I missing something?"

Kurt shrugs. "What was the delivery for?"

Puck notices there's a slight blush creeping up her cheeks, and becomes curious himself.

"I ordered some new clothes, and they're here. That's the extent of the knowledge you should have about the box."

Kurt's eyes light up.

"Does this mean you're not going to dress as a cross between a toddler and a grandmother?" He jumps off the couch, on his way to run up the stairs to look through the newfound discovery.

Rachel runs after him to grab the box back. She ordered clothes but not those type of _clothes_. Several weeks ago, she was bored and logged onto the Victoria's Secret website, and ordered several hundred dollars worth of merchandise on her father's American Express card.

(These purchases have no relation to her newfound dates with Puck. _None_ at all. _None_.)

She doesn't succeed, watching Kurt sit down on the couch, holding the box in his thin fingers. She rolls her eyes, and sits back down on her spot on the couch. Maybe they'll get bored of the whole thing.

He opens the box, and the first thing that falls out is the invoice.

Picking it up, he begins to read.

"You ordered from _Victoria's Secret_? This is juicy."

Mentally, Rachel wants to slap herself on the forehead but she's determined to not let this episode get to her. It's rather insignificant, really. It's just _underwear. _Kurt continues observing the invoice, everyone around them intrigued.

"_Four _hundred dollars, Rachel? Really?"

She bites her lip, her front teeth pressing into the lower skin. "I may have gotten slightly carried away."

Kurt's eyes widen. "Slightly may be an exaggeration. You purchased one bra in _four _colors."

She shrugs. "I had a difficult time choosing."

Santana nods. "Colors are important because when worn incorrectly, it shows underneath the shirt. Not that it matters to me, Cheerios have red for the top. Or they could be used to other purposes. Red is _sexy_ as hell to guys. Puck _loves_ red. This one time I wore red, he had me undressed in forty five seconds flat and on my back."

(Rachel shoots her a dirty look. She doesn't want to imagine her boyfriend, fake or not, with the slutty cheer leader.)

"That's not quite true, San. Puck cares little about a girl wears. More like what's underneath."

(Rachel shoots Quinn another dirty. Seriously. These people are _bitches_.)

"Why do you need _so_ many corsets? Or a satin bustier? How many pieces of lace do you need? Where are you planning on wearing this to?"

"That's irrelevant. I find that undergarments are _extremely_ important, whether anyone sees them or not."

Rachel's just grateful that Kurt is only reading the invoice, not actually taking the items from the bag himself. She doesn't know if the knots in her stomach can _tie_ that far.

"I'm sure Puck will love you in lace. Santana likes me in purple best." Brittany sighs dreamily, and everyone stares.

"For your information, I had ordered these items prior to Puck and I, well, you know, whatever." She's at a loss for words, she's only staring at the ceiling to avoid making eye contact with Puck.

Puck clears his throat. "Dating. You mean dating."

She smiles gratefully. "Yes. Dating. That's the word I would use. Very good."

He nods, and he could swear he could see her becoming flustered, and everyone in the room looks between them, the tension emitting from the two is thick enough to be cut with a knife.

Finn looks repulsed, and tries to swallow the bile inching its way up his throat.

"Can I have the bag, please? I'd like to put it away." Rachel sticks her hand out for the box.

Kurt shakes his head frantically, moving to hold it close to his chest. "We're not done here."

Rachel smiles weakly. That's what she was afraid of, she thinks. Though, how much more could there really be?

"Can you model them for us?"

Rachel blinks, nearly positive she heard him incorrectly.

"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. You want me to do _what_?"

Mercedes looks patiently at Rachel. "Model. Model the clothes. Girl, you have a _banging_ body, you shouldn't be afraid to flaunt your features."

"I'm not modeling lingerie. That's an extremely sensitive topic, and highly inappropriate."

A smirk tugs at Puck's mouth at the thought of Rachel modeling lingerie, a smirk slowly replaced by a glare when he realizes she may model for Finn if their plan succeeds. Standing up, he moves to fake a stretch, but instead, grabs the box from Hummel.

"There's nothing to see, Beyonce. You're going to have to get your kicks elsewhere." He tosses the box over to Rachel, and motions for her to follow him up the stairs, much to the delightful whistles of everyone else. Tugging at her hand, he pulls her into the room and presses her against the door.

"You realize that I have guests downstairs, right? That think we're engaged in various activities of a sexual nature?"

Puck shakes his head. "I don't care. Stop talking."

She bites her lip to stifle any words that may come out from her mouth.

"I'm sorry about earlier, you're a great fake girlfriend."

She giggles. "That's _why_ we're hiding in my room right now?"

"Yes. We need to talk about this."

Rachel looks surprised. Usually, she's the one doing the talking.

"What's _this_?"

He sighs, bringing his hands underneath her shirt, rubbing against the skin of her lower back.

"We started because you wanted to make Finn jealous, and I get that, but not really. I think, that maybe, we should use this month to find out if, maybe, we could work. Instead of Finn, you know. I know you feel it, Berry."

She doesn't say anything, but he doesn't give her room for a response. His mouth travels downward from her face, settling downward on her neck. His teeth bite into her collarbone, and she would wince, if his tongue wasn't doing amazing things to her skin.

Moving her head, she gently removes his hands from hers, and smooths out the wrinkles on her shirt.

"We should go downstairs before someone comes upstairs, and finds us."

She doesn't say a word in response to his proposition, walking out of her room without a second glance at Puck, and she slowly walks down the stairs.

Running his hand through his hair, he moves to scratch his neck, frustrated. That talk didn't go how he anticipated. He thought she'd, well, he didn't know what he thought, actually. Maybe she could have been more responsive. Throwing the yarmulke on the bed, he follows after her.

As always, reviews are love. I'm always sad when I don't get enough, and then I always want more and more. Thanks so much guys!

Saw pictures from the Glee Instyle party last night. Guess Mark and Naya are back together. Also, it was like 3AM, and I begin to develop conspiracy theories on that Lea and Naya are never photographed together. Also, I noticed that Lea added Mark back on Twitter. Oy. I need more hobbies. (And apparently, Lea and Cory were outed as a couple on Twitter by the guy that plays Sandy. Couple _extraordinare_? Really?)


	20. Emphasis on the Carpet

After everyone leaves, Rachel walks up the stairs to her room, and falls on her bed, lying there before she feels an object sticking into her side. Sitting up, she finds the yarmulke, the yarmulke Puck bought for PJ. Not that she would _ever_ call the Cat PJ out loud, she hurriedly corrects herself. Still, fingering the stitching, she thinks it's an incredibly kind gesture. Gently placing it on her bedside table, she makes a mental note to put it on the Cat later, and to discuss the gesture with Puck, and she crawls underneath the covers and thinks about the words he said.

She's still flustered by the look in his eyes when he said he wants to try to be with her, _actually_ try. She thinks it could be a nice concept, the idea of being in a real relationship, even if Puck doesn't fit the idea of a leading man. As her thoughts swirl inside her head, she drifts to sleep, a dreamless state.

Falling asleep until morning, she's awoken by the pounding on her front door. Rushing down the stairs, she flings it open, startled to see him on her doorstep again.

Her eyes widen, realizing what his presence at her doorstep suggests, and begins to panic. "I'm late for school, I'm late for class, _late. _What will people think? Are they worried about where I am? What did you tell them? Please tell me you gave a viable excuse. I've never missed a day of school in my life, this day off could be detrimental to my perfect attendance record."

He shrugs, and pushes his way past her into her house. He didn't come here to argue with her about her blowing off school, he's here to corner her into talking about what he said yesterday.

"Why weren't you in school today?" He glares at her, surprised at the anger that was brewing inside him earlier, back when he didn't see her by her locker.

"I overslept. My internal alarm clock failed me today."

"Bull_shit_. You never oversleep."

"Are you calling me a liar? I'm offended by that."

He rolls his eyes at her, anticipating another one of her diva tantrums. Instead of replying, he prefers to delay her fit for as long as possible. Taking off his shoes, he wanders off into the kitchen, opening her fridge and trying to find something edible. He hears her incessant chatter in the background, and really, if he's going to _actually_ date her, he has to convince her to stop talking once in a while. Taking out cartons of Chinese food, he hops up on her kitchen counter and begins to eat.

"Wait, why are you staying? Shouldn't you be dragging me to school with you? We have to go back. Don't you have slushies to spill, freshmen to hang?"

"Berry's got _jokes_." He continues plowing through the cold food, ignoring the looks of disgust she keeps shooting him.

"Contrary to popular belief, I have a strong comedic center that often, people do not recognize nor understand. It's a humor that requires more intelligence than some possess. Also, I wish you would leave, I feel uncomfortable with your presence in my household domain, especially more so given the fact that I closely resemble an ancestor of Godzilla."

"I wouldn't go that far, Berry. Godzilla's an attractive specimen, and your face could use some work."

"My face is _wonderful_, thank you. However, I would like to tell you that your negative criticism will only prepare me for my future in Page Six, and since when do you even know what specimen means?"

"Since I started attending science class last week. Yeah, yeah. I know it's hard for you to grasp but I'm not completely uneducated." Walking back to the living room, her trailing after him like a lost puppy, he hops on the couch, Chinese carton in one hand, chopsticks in the other.

She rolls her eyes, and sarcastically claps her hands together.

"Do you want a medal because you learned a new word?"

He shakes his head, what the _fuck_ is he going to do with a medal, his eyes flicking across the room, finally settling on the new carpet that was delivered several days ago.

"No, but I'd appreciate it if we could have sex on the carpet instead. It looks new, its presence must have gone unnoticed last night. Otherwise, I would have kicked the pansies out and tried to convince you to fool around on it instead. It looks hella soft, I may even let you be on top."

"Why would I be on top if it's soft?"

"Uh, _obviously_, if it's soft, it means I wouldn't have rug burn so I'd be pretty cool being on the bottom."

Continuing to stare at it, the wheels in his head turn. He's _so_ getting laid on that damn thing.

"This is _fantastic_."

"What is?"

"You want to have sex on that carpet. Your question was a ploy to distract me."

"What the hell is wrong with you? I am not having sex with you on my living room carpet."

He winks, entertained by the flurry of emotions that dance across her face. He reaches out to brush his knuckles against her cheek, surprised by how soft her face feels.

"You say that _now _but we know the truth, babe. You want me, you want me _bad_ and on that carpet. If that wasn't the truth, you wouldn't have asked why you get the top because you wouldn't care but you _do_ care. You're so easy to read."

"We are never having sex on that carpet. Top or bottom, sideways. It's never going to happen."

"Sideways sounds pretty kinky actually. Can we try it now? The image is burning a hole in my brain. And I'll even compromise with you, _again. _It doesn't have to be on this carpet, what about another one?"

"I just said that. That's what I just said. I just said we're not having sex on that carpet. Why don't you _ever_ listen to me?"

"No, I listened. You said _that_ carpet. You weren't specific enough. You need to be more careful of what you say. Does this mean we can have sex on other carpets? What kind of carpet do you have in your room? Actually, I've seen the carpet you have in your room. I don't think I want to have sex on that one. Can you order a replacement for it?"

Her brown eyes turn revert to anger, and he uses his hands to block his head when she starts hitting him.

"We are not having sex on _any_ carpet. _Ever_."

"The lady doth protest too much. It's cool, I dig it. Your protesting is a clever ruse to tell me you really want it but you're too shy to say so."

He avoids another whack on his head by ducking, and thinks this is shit is entertaining as hell. He's afraid to laugh, it may antagonize her even more and then he _really_ will leave with a sore head.

He raises his palms in a peace offering, and she crosses her hands across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.

"It's fine, it's fine. We'll compromise. Relationships are built on compromise, anyway. We don't need to have sex on that carpet. We can just have sex in general."

"We're not in a real relationship, and I'm not having sex with you."

He raises an eyebrow, and thinks to himself about their pseudo relationship. They're going to be in a relationship sooner than she thinks, and then they will have sex on that damn carpet.

"Look, you were just protesting sex on the carpet, you didn't say anything regarding sex in general."

"I thought that was implied. Or understood. I thought you _got_ my drift."

She makes a face. "No, I don't get your drift."

"Berry, Berry, _Berry_. Ber_r_y." He begins to whine, and his fingers itch to jab her in the ribs for taking the prospect of sex away so quickly. He really feels like he's missing out on a life changing experience by not being able to have sex on that carpet.

She looks at him strangely. "Do you need a decongestant?"

"What? _Why_?" This conversation is not going in the direction he anticipated. She's _supposed_ to feel sorry for him, not offer him shitty decongestants.

"Your voice sounds nasally. Perhaps a decongestant would suffice. I'd hate for your voice to become sore prior to our win at Sectionals."

"I don't need a decongestant, Berry. I need you to be quiet and listen to me."

"I am listening. Don't you _dare_ question my listening skills."

"Stop changing the subject, then."

"What subject? There's a subject?"

"You're avoiding the conversation."

"What conversation? We were discussing sex on my living room carpet. As far as conversations go, that's not much to go on."

He throws his hands in the air, and takes his finished food back to the kitchen. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

Frustrated, he doesn't bother to respond, just rubs his hand through his hair.

"You should work on being more articulate. Your vocabulary is rather limited."

His eyes narrow. _More_ articulate? He's been trying to think of shit to say the whole morning to bring up yesterday, and she has the _nerve_ to tell him to be more articulate. Gazing at her, he observes her expectant stare, her wait for his comeback.

He inches closer, and puts his fingertips on her waist, his thumbs inching underneath her shirt. His fingers skim the hidden skin, dancing across her lower back.

"Maybe I shouldn't use words then. Maybe I underestimated the power of body language on you."

She clenches her teeth, and crinkles her face, attempting to use her hands to move his away, trying to ignore the sparks his hands left.

"Unhand me now, right this _very_ instant."

He moves in further, pressing her against the cabinet, positioning his feet on the side of hers to prevent her to move. Trapping her with his lower body, he drops his hands from underneath her shirt, and watches her squirm.

"I did let you go, now you can't complain."

"You backed me into the corner. Like a field mouse."

"It's not a corner, it's a kitchen cabinet. Honestly, Berry. You're slipping on your game. You can't even distinguish the difference between corners and kitchen cabinets."

She sighs, and looks at him, her eyes clouded with a look he can't describe.

"What is this _really_ about?"

Placing his hands back on her waist, he leans his forehead against hers.

"It's about yesterday, about you walking out on me when I wanted to talk, which I'm pissed about. I never talk, and the one time I do, you walk out on me. It doesn't exactly bring warm feelings, Berry."

She brings her hands to cusp his face, and smirks.

"I'll _compromise_. If you really want to try, we'll try. Only because you asked _really_ nicely yesterday, and I'm into being the first to tame you into a relationship. I _love_ being first. We're on day seven today, so let's reassess everything on day thirty."

He stands there, _stunned_ by how quickly she agreed. He was expecting her to pick a fight, throw some more punches. He wasn't expecting _that_. Nor was he expecting her quip about taming. Girl's got a point. He's not much of a monogamist.

"You couldn't tell me this yesterday? _Really_ now?"

She shrugs, smiling easily at his scowl. "I needed some time to think about it."

"I see. Well, how much would you say you would need to think about having sex on that carpet?"

Exasperated, she punches him in the arm again. "Stop talking about sex on that carpet. That's sexual harassment, the carpet feels violated."

"The _carpet_ feels violated?"

She nods.

"So you don't feel violated? Which means we could discuss other places to have sex? More inappropriate places, perhaps?"

"There will be no sex."

"You're _fucking_ Crazy with a capital C, that's why. Depriving a stud of my caliber from having sexual relations with an _extremely_ sexy lady."

She smiles in spite of herself, not even protesting his usage of the word Crazy in relation to her.

"That vulgar terminology has to go. It's unbecoming of gentlemen to possess foul mouths."

Grinning wickedly, his hands circle her waist, and he squeezes her into a hug until she's gasping for oxygen. Brushing the hair falling across her face, he leans into her ear, his words burrowing themselves into her skin.

"Good thing nobody could _ever_ confuse me with being a gentleman."

AN: As always, reviews are love. Also, I've been debating the idea of asking two people to serve as a sounding board. Please feel free to leave a review/PM if you're interested but please don't bother if you're not a regular reviewer.


	21. The One with the Circus

The next morning, Puck wakes up with a splitting headache, and visions of Berry dancing in his head. Not even good visions, not wet dream visions, not inappropriate visions. He dreams of Berry as a _fucking_ lion tamer in the circus, and him as the _fucking_ lion. Lions are pretty bad ass, they are, but really to be dominated by Berry, Puck's not sure how much his heart could handle. _Nobody_ dominates him, not outside of the bedroom, anyway. He begins to wonder about this whole taming business as he gets out of bed, wandering into his bathroom.

Brushing his teeth, and staring at himself in the mirror, he thinks back to the dream, and attempts an analysis, or one as well as he could at seven in the morning. Berry was dressed as a lion tamer, a top hat with a white shirt and a skirt, an orange skirt. She doesn't even own orange skirts. Puck shakes his head, lion tamers don't even _freaking_ wear skirts, maybe the dream was different than how he remembers. He scrunches his nose, and tries to transport himself back to the dream, correcting her clothes as he falls back in. Berry's wearing slouchy clothes instead, and they're in a cage, and she has a whip, a whip with sequins. Come to think of it, that sounds pretty kinky. He looks around but he can't see past the bars, only catching glimpses of orange through the mirror on the side.

Suddenly, he hears the roar of the crowd and he feels himself grin. He's the center of attention, just like he's always wanted. There's no superior best friend, Puck isn't hidden in the shadows. He opens his mouth to thank the crowd for their adulation, there goes another one of Berry's SAT words again, but instead he hears a roar. He looks around, _surely_ the roar must be coming from a direction. Still, the crowd continues yelling, and Puck is still shaking his head frantically. He looks at Berry, her coming closer with the whip in her hand, and he becomes lost in his own thoughts, the sound of his own roaring. _Ah, shit_.

Spitting out the toothpaste, pushing the dream further out of his memory, he resolves that there's only one solution. He has to break up her. He can't do this relationship _shit_, studs do _not_ do relationships. He wracks his brain, trying to come up with studs who live happily ever after, and he can't. Putting on his determined face, he walks out the door, this has to be _done_. It may break her fragile heart, it may even elicit a tear on his end but this shit has to be _done_.

Driving up to her house, he's mentally preparing a speech. The usual, it's not you, it's you, all of the regular boring shit that guys say when they know it's really _her_, and not _him._ He's never _actually_ had to give the talk before. Most girls aren't stupid enough to assume that having sex with him leads to love and flowers. Getting hyped up, he fails to notice her hopping into the truck until she slams the door with extra force.

"Here." She sticks out a croissant, and a cup of coffee and he blinks at her in a quick succession, forgetting to yell at her about slamming the door. Taking the items from her, he puts it on his dashboard, and continues to stare.

"A simple thank you would be sufficient, but I know you're a man of few words."

Putting the keys back into the ignition, he puts the car into drive, and decides breaking up with her is going to be more difficult than he originally thought, especially if she brings him breakfast.

Arriving at school, he realizes she hasn't uttered a single word since he picked her up. Now she's not _talking_. First it's the breakfast, now it's the silence. She's doing this on purpose, as if she reads minds. She _knows_ he wants to end things and she's been all cool about it, she's using that reverse psychology _**bs **_on him by anticipating what he wants. Grabbing her wrist to prevent her from hopping out of his truck, he motions for her to close the door.

"You haven't said a single word. Usually, you're rambling miles a minute."

"I'm not a morning person. I also do not believe in the wasting of words."

"Oh, _please. _You're always off on some hour long ramble, using too many words and wasting that _fine_ mouth if you ask me, and as far as I know you're _totally _a morning person. You're always on that treadmill or whatever the hell it's called at six in the morning sharp."

"You have a valid point. However, the purpose of my exercise routine each morning is to prepare myself for the day, and it's a rigorous routine. Hence, I find myself mentally and physically exerted until about lunch time, and how do you know what I do at six in the _morning_? Have you been spying on me?"

"I see you on my jogging run. I observe quietly and not as creepily as someone else would."

She sticks her hand on his face, clasping his cheeks to make his face into a fish, moving his face back and forth.

"You do that again, and I'm going to let the dogs loose on you."

"I didn't even see anything through the window, Berry. Also, don't make shit up about dogs. You have two cats. Three, if you count yours."

"Voyeurism is creepy, Puck. Also, I will ignore your vile euphemism, because my response would be unfit for a lady. Be as it may, I have _two_ cats, and both are very proficient guard dogs. PJ, in particular, has a rather nasty stare, I've noticed."

"PJ?" A self-satisfied smirk hovers on his lips. She _did _name the Cat after him.

"Yes. Puck." Her voice trails off when she realizes what she is about to reveal.

"You _do_ call him after me."

"Do not."

"You call him _PJ_. Holla."

She rolls her eyes, and lugs out several bags of clothing, and he shudders when he sees a top hat stick out. Giving her the once over, he realizes she's wearing white and orange, and he's _horrified_. Very, very horrified. How did he _not_ see her outfit when she sat down in his car? He wouldn't have given her a ride and by extension, this day never would have had to happen.

Trying to play it subtle, he hopes today isn't the day his dream, the dream about being orange and locked into a cage, comes to life. Honestly now, why can't his other dreams about naked Sports Illustrated models and threesomes come to life? Why does it have to be Berry, and her clothes?

"What's the bag for?"

"My Glee routine."

"We have routines today?" What kind of routine involves _hats_?

She nods, acknowledging the faint surprise in his voice. "You would know that had you _ever _paid attention."

"Whatever, what's your song? Can it be a duet?" Mr. Schuester's going to be pissed once he finds out Puck is unprepared, again. He'll just have to hitch onto Rachel's wagon, and the problem will be solved.

"Yeah, it's called mind your own business. I refuse to let you participate with me because you're too lazy to take the extensive time and research to prepare.." She continues lugging the suitcase along, and he wonders if she's hoarding gold.

"But I'm your _boyfriend_."

"We've been dating for less than twenty fours, it's not even that official yet." She shoots him a worried glance, noticing the evident whine in his tone again. "Your voice sounds nasally when you begin to whine. Are you sure you don't need something for that? I have several in my bag if you need."

His eyes narrow as he declines her offer of decongestants, _again,_ and resolves something to do about the hitching whine that tags along when he wants to ask her for things. He needs to sound _sexy_, seductive. He does not need to sound like a mini toddler hyped up on helium.

"Where are you going?"

He frowns. "What do you mean, where am I going?"

"This is the direction of my locker, Puck. Not yours, since you rarely attend classes that would contribute to your education."

"Yeah, I know. I'm walking you there."

"What for? I'm a strong, independent woman, fully capable of walking to my locker on my own. I have done it before, you know."

"Just let me walk you to your locker, damn it."

She links an arm through his, and smiles. "Okay."

Dropping her off, Puck turns to walk away when he hears a slight roar, and spins himself back around, seeing and hearing Jacob cozying up to her locker.

"_Roar_, my gorgeous girl. My pants have agreed you're looking rather _fine_ this morning, especially in that orange skirt. You don't even need a whip to have me on my knees. In fact, if you would kindly take my arm, I could tell you about my dream last night. Not even tell you, I'm sure you're going to be begging me for a demonstration."

Rolling his eyes, Puck stomps back, and slams Jacob into a locker.

"Leave my girlfriend alone, weasel."

"I _can't_. I had a dream about her last night where she was taming me, and she had a whip, and it was the sexiest thing ever, and I'm getting turned on again. Be careful of my pants."

"Don't dream about her, either. The only person she can whip is me, not your shriveled face."

Jacob nods. "Can you put me down now? I have items to attend to." He nudges Puck in the ribs. "I'm sure you know what I mean."

As Jacob moves to scamper off, Puck turns to look at Rachel.

She kinks an eyebrow. "Whipping? Really?"

He plops a kiss on her forehead. "Does this mean we can take whipping under consideration too? At least let me have that, if not the carpet."

Leaning in, she places her hands around his waist, her fingertips lightly skimming his lower back. Standing on her tip toes, she leans in, her breath warm against his ear. He starts to think this is the moment where he's _fucked_, and he's not going to be able to break up with her.

"No." She kisses his lips, and he feels her laugh as she walks down the hall, away from him. He shakes his head, and tries to pump himself back in the game. He has to break up with _her_ before he loses his balls, and is going on tampon runs for her.

The day passes slowly. Every time Puck looks at the clock, he feels as though it's unchanged. He doesn't see Rachel for the rest of the day, attending class cuts into his naps. Wandering into Glee, he drops himself down on the chair, and notices the girls are missing.

"Where are the girls?" He asks Finn, expecting an answer but unsurprised when he doesn't receive one. He begins to hear circus music, and he's about to flip the _fuck_ out. His dream is coming true, the opening sequence of his dream is coming fucking true.

Oh _my_ God, Puck thinks, catching a glimpse of Berry, sandwiched between Santana and Brittany. Oh my _fucking _God. She is wearing a top hat, and a white shirt, and he can totally, _totally_ see the lacy fabric of her bra underneath it, and she's wearing the orange skirt she had on earlier, hiked up a little.

He's not surprised when he hears her be the first to sing, and not surprised when he feels his pants tighten.

_there's only two types of people in the world_

_the ones that entertain and the ones that observe_

_well, baby, i'm a put on a show kinda girl_

_don't like the backseat, gotta be first._

He can only watch as the girls arrange themselves into position, and he's pretty sure his jaw is hanging open, and drool is covering the floor. The girls separate, and walk over to each boy of their choosing, and he's anticipating Berry, when Berry is paired with _fucking_ Mike instead, and he gets _fucking _Santana. She attempts to move his hands onto her, as she sits on his lap, and he pushes her hands away, craning his neck to the back of the room to see what Berry is up to with Mike. If anything happens, he's going to pummel that kid's face in.

_i'm like the ring leader, i call the shots_

_i'm like a fire cracker, i make it hot_

_when i put on a show_

_i feel the adrenaline moving through my veins_

_spotlight on me and i'm ready to break_

_better be ready, hope you feel the same_

He hears the crack of the whip, and he is _definitely_ going to ask her to use it later, but then his grin falls. _Fuck_. He thinks. I wanted to break up. Gulping, he decides he'll enjoy the performance, persuade her to use the whip, and _then_ break up with her.

_all eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus_

_when i crack that whip, it's just like a circus._

At that moment, the girls begin to play musical chairs, and Puck gets Brittany, and from the corner of his eye, he sees Berry get Hummel, and if he wasn't so _pissed_ over this, he would be dying of laughter right now.

_there's only two types of guys out there_

_ones that can hang with me and ones that are scared_

_so baby, i hope that you came prepared_

_i run a tight ship so beware_

As the girls assume the front of the room again, he can only hope he's not being too obvious by staring. Seeing the girls dance, he's _still _shocked that Rachel is that flexible, Puck can't tear his eyes away, and then realizes Finn is staring too. He clamps his hand over Finn's eyes, and doesn't flinch when Finn swats it away, simply putting it back after Finn knocks it off.

Five times of hand swatting later, the performance is over, and Puck sits there, shocked. That performance was _hot_, and if it wasn't for Finn eying Rachel, Puck would have been able to pay more attention. He wonders if he can sweet talk her into a repeat before he breaks up with her.

"Dude, what the hell was that? You were covering my eyes during almost the _entire_ performance."

Puck shrugs, a small shake of his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about. You need to catch up on your sleep."

Finn starts poking at Puck's chest. "I have plenty of sleep, you covered my eyes!"

"Stop jabbing me, I didn't even do anything."

Finn is about to say something else, or maybe use his fists for more hitting, when Rachel bounces over, and sits on Puck's lap, interlocking her hands behind his neck.

"What'd you think?"

"I don't know, I didn't see much of it. This jackass was closing my eyes."

Rachel and Puck turn to look at Finn, an odd expression on her face. Turning to look back at Puck, she tilts her head, waiting expectantly for an answer.

"Better than my dreams, baby. Better than my dreams."

She grins, and his thumb circles the underside of her neck.

"Come on tiger, I'll give you a ride home."

Driving her home, he finds himself catching glimpses of her reading school work out of the corner of his eye. Pulling into her driveway, he decides it's now or never.

"Berry."

She doesn't look up. "Yes?"

"We should break up."

He waits for her to say something, anything, to throw a fit or three but she doesn't say anything. She's creepy silent, creepy _creepy_ silent.

Absentmindedly, she begins to pat his head while keeping her eyes focused on the pages of science material in front of her.

"You just have the twenty four hour itch."

He looks at her, and smacks her hand away. He's not a _dog_ she can pet. If she didn't know any better, she would have said he just _growled_ at her.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

She decides to play dumb, thinking the show is much more fun this way. There's no way she's breaking up with him, and she'll destroy her gold stars before she lets him break up with her. Not after twenty four hours, anyway. She has less of a reputation than he does but a girl needs to keep her dignity.

"I don't know, Puck. What do you think I'm saying?" She tries to put on her most innocent face, which becomes difficult because she's biting the inside of her cheek to contain her laughter. She tries to keep the gleaming laugh out of her eyes, so she looks anywhere _but_ him.

"You said, you just said I have a _fucking_ rash."

"No, I didn't. I said you have an itch. Now, who can't be specific? Et tu, Puck?"

He throws his hands in the air, fuming at her inability to understand the seriousness of the situation. At this rate, he's never going to get laid in this town again. He waits for her to speak, the minutes elapse between them slowly. After several minutes, she breaks the silence creeping into the car.

"I just meant that you're not used to be in a relationship, and neither am I, but I'm more adaptable to change, and you're not so you're not used to it. Hence, the itch."

He nods in understanding, not that he _actually_ does. He doesn't understand why she has to keep saying itch.

"How do I get rid of it? I feel all different inside. It's creeping me the fuck out."

"We have to break up."

"But it's only been twenty four hours."

"Exactly. How astute of you."

"I don't think I want to break up, not after a day. I'm not a freaking quitter. I guess these feelings are just going to have to move the fuck out."

Her ears perk up. "I think that's a splendid option. They didn't even pay rent."

Getting ready to get of the car, she sticks out her hand for him to give her a high five.

"What was that for?" He asks, talking to her through his window, his palm still tingly.

"We made it through our first day."

He smiles, watching her walk away. "Don't forget to add a gold star on your calendar for _fucking_ awesome achievement."

Walking backwards, she salutes him. "Will do, captain."

AN: Thank you for all the reviews, you guys! You're all made of fabulous, fabulous win. Please let me know if you have any suggestions, or criticisms. The song used is Britney Spears 'Circus.' (Muchos gracias to DemonicHime for the wonderful idea of the lion tamer)


	22. Here's a Little Heart for You

"Puck."

Rachel rolls her eyes when Puck falls asleep during the school auditorium, softly emitting snores from the back of his throat. His head is slightly tilted to the side, his hands intertwined together.

"Puck."

She nudges him awake, but she can hardly feel him stir. She's not sure why she's bothering, she could go to the mall by herself, after this assembly ends but the thing is, she doesn't want to. She would prefer his company over that of being alone.

"Puck."

She sighs heavily when he refuses to move, and desperate times call for desperate measures when she elbows him in the ribs. _Hard_.

That particular movement was enough to jolt him awake, and he stares at her, wide eyed and _angry_.

"What was that for?" He hisses, rubbing his left side with his hand, gingerly wincing. He was in the middle of a _very_ good dream, one that was much better than the current alternative of Principal Figgin's droning. Figures his girlfriend would go and be a spoiler.

"You were sleeping."

"I _know_."

"It's rude."

"You interrupted a sexy dream, Berry."

"Spare me the details."

He sits up straight, slinging a hand over her shoulder, tilting his mouth further to her ear. She feels herself fidgeting as his fingers travel underneath her hair, gently rubbing the top of her spine.

She smells like pineapples, and other various fruits, and from the corner of his eye, he can see her lips part, fully prepared to lecture him about the direction of his hands. He cuts her off before she has a chance to speak, to ruin his mood.

"A very _sexy_ dream, Berry. One that involved you and lots of skin, nudity in fact."

He pauses, enjoying her squirming. He finds himself smirking at the thought, he finds her to be _delicious_.

"And we were in your laundry room, you were sitting on top of the washing machine, and _obviously_, you were wearing a skirt. All the better for easy access, if you ask me."

She moves a hand to clamp over his mouth, which he grabs easily, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"And then my mouth headed south, and my hands trailed upwards, and your hands were gripping my hair."

She clamps her other hand over his mouth, preventing him from continuing. She's determined to prove to him he can't get to her, dreams of her or not. Letting go, she wipes her hand across her skirt, and ignores his smirk.

"Don't worry, Berry. We'll finish this conversation later, when we're more private."

She ignores his remark, and silently chides the butterflies floating in her stomach.

"I need you to come to the mall with me."

"What's in it for me?"

"The pleasure of my company, obviously."

"What else?"

She looks at him, sticking out her lower lip, and widening her eyes, blinking back fake tears.

"Isn't that enough?"

Puck hopes this isn't the moment where she begins to cry if he says no but he would rather not risk that chance, he would rather say yes and hope he can break her down to fulfilling his dream. Amazing, he thinks. All those cougars and he has _still_ never had sex on top of a washing machine.

"Is that a yes?"

He looks at her, startled by her voice. "What?"

"You're smiling. I presume you agree."

He curls his lip with disgust, his gaze searching her face. "Seeing as how I have no other alternative, then yes, but don't think you're going to get away with not making this up to me later."

She rolls her eyes, as the two join the other kids in filtering out of the auditorium.

"Stop picturing me naked."

"Oh, it's only a picture for _now_."

Shaking her head, she drags him by the arm to the car, feebly attempting to ignore all of his sexual innuendos on the drive to the mall.

"I need coffee. Let's get coffee first."

"It's late afternoon, Berry. You don't need any damn coffee."

She throws him a dirty look over her shoulder, gripping his hand tightly as they weave through the crowd.

"I wasn't aware I had to ask your opinion."

"Now you are."

She ignores him, placing her order for a large coffee and milk at the counter.

"Fat free?" The barista asks.

"No. I don't buy fat free milk because I don't want to encourage cows with body image issues."

The barista gives Rachel a once over, staring at her strangely in response to her comment.

"Whole milk it is, then."

She smiles, mistaking the weirdness in his tone for the sound of approval, and lets Puck guide her away once she's received her coffee.

"Cows? Body image issues? Really, now?"

She takes a small sip of her coffee, careful not to burn her tongue, and her taste buds. She doesn't respond to the judgmental tone of his voice, she sees no need. Instead, she drags him from store to store, searching for new clothes. By the last one, he's so tired of it, he finds himself sitting in the dressing room, his bones tired.

He wonders how women do this on a regular basis, this shopping cannot be good for anyone's feet.

"How do I look?" She twirls around to give him the full view, biting her lip anxiously as she waits for him to look up from his phone.

"Compared to what?" He doesn't bother looking away from his game, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"I don't know, just tell me. How do I look?"

After several beats between them, he looks up and glances at her outfit. She's wearing a skirt, a multicolored skirt and a shirt, with those knee socks. As far as he can tell, she looks no different than the other days he's seen her.

"Next to Amy Winehouse, you're _fucking_ hot. Next to Angelina Jolie, well, I'm sure you're nice, a nice personality."

Rachel looks at Puck, who's gone back to staring at his screen, and stomps back into the dressing room. Standing there, getting undressed, an idea brings a slow smile to her face.

"Puck?"

She rolls her eyes when she hears him grunt. She _has_ to have a talk with him later about his inability to communicate.

"Can you come here a second?"

"I'm busy."

"No, you're not. You're probably staring at your phone _again_. Come here and be helpful."

She smiles to herself, sure that he's probably sighing and speaking a range of expletives silently in his head.

Opening the door slightly, she grins at him when she sees his face.

"Can you undo the zipper on the back of my shirt? It seems to be stuck."

He doesn't move, his mouth gaping at her request.

"We don't have all day, you know."

"Fine, whatever. Turn around."

His fingers move to adjust the zipper, the shirt opening to expose her entire back.

He opens his mouth to say something but she nudges her body onto his, turning around to remove the shirt, and he's surprised by how silent she can really be.

She gives him a good view, and his hands find themselves making their way to her waist, and she can only watch as he leans in to kiss her.

She's surprised when she finds herself leaning in to kiss back, even more surprised when she finds herself against the dressing room wall. She arches her shoulders upward, and loses herself in the kiss. His mouth flutters down her neck, across her rib cage, and he kisses her hip bone before she realizes _where_ she is and _what_ she is doing, remembering she's supposed to be extracting revenge for him not paying attention.

(By using her body)

She pulls him upwards, blinded by the look in his eyes, and breathlessly pushes him out the door.

"Next time, you'll _pay_ attention." She hisses, slamming the door in his face, opening it an inch later to throw his shirt back in his face.

"You're such a _fucking_ tease." He yells through the door, banging his head against the door.

She leans against the other side, her heart drumming to its own beat, and she resolves not to have any more bright ideas of such things in the future.

When she comes out again several minutes later, she hums an indistinguishable song, pleased to see him still stewing.

"Low blow, Berry. Low _fucking_ blow. Uncalled for, too."

She shrugs, continuing to hum underneath her breath. She walks over to his place on the chair, and sits on his lap, knotting her fingers behind him, her thumbs moving against his lower back.

"How can I make it up to you?"

His smile turns into a smirk, and he lowers his mouth to hers.

"I can think of a number of different ways, starting now."

He begins to kiss her, deepening as his tongue sweeps her teeth, as she sighs in contentment. He bites her lower lip, and she finds herself laughing into his mouth.

The two pull away when Rachel hears someone clearing their throat behind her, turning around to see Quinn, her mouth open.

"It's not polite to stare, Quinn. It's rather uncouth to stare that impolitely. Use some discretion, or better yet, you could close your mouth before you begin to drool."

She stands, straightening out her skirt.

"I'm not drooling, Man Hands. Maybe you would have more friends if you would use less words."

"I know you have a lot on your plate, Quinn, but it would be beneficial if one of those things was a thesaurus."

Preventing Rachel from saying something else, Puck takes her by the arm, effectively ending the conversation. On the way out the door, Rachel begins with the first of her many complaints about her shopping experience.

"Three hours in the mall, and I walked out with a pair of socks and a coffee. I can't even fathom the thought of a person who goes there for pleasure."

AN: As always, reviews are love. I think it would be nice to have 200 :) Also, I have five stories in the works and I would hate for any of them to suffer, so I may be stepping back from updating.


	23. The One with the Separation

"Hey Puck."

Finn said easily, the words arriving on a rush of air early in the morning.

Puck nods in acknowledgement. He got little to none sleep the previous night and he's not in a chatting mood. He rubs the tiredness out of his eyes while he listens to his best friend talk, wishing Finn would lower his voice; he's talking too loud. Sometimes, he wonders where Finn gets all his energy from and why it's never quite rubbed off on him.

"You're never around anymore. You're always off with Rachel."

Puck jolts out of his thoughts when he hears Rachel's name. He wishes he got more sleep the night before so his thoughts would unravel clearer. He isn't always with Berry, just the past couple of days. They're dating, aren't they supposed to be spending time together? He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog from his memory. He detects a note of jealousy in Finn's voice but Puck chalks it up to sleep deprivation.

"That's not true, man. Things have been going on, life and shit."

Finn nods, almost as if in agreement. Puck blinks to prevent himself from rolling his eyes.

"Still, I was thinking we could get a bunch of the guys together after school and hang out. You know, since Glee is canceled today."

"I don't know. I wanted to get home and get some sleep. I've been running on an empty tank the past few days."

Finn waves his hands around in various hand gestures.

"You'll have time for that later, sleep when you're dead. Come on."

Begrudgingly, Puck agrees, telling him he'll swing by to Matt's after his last class of the day. After he's kissed Rachel good-bye, he heads over to Matt's, walking in to see the usual crew minus one.

"Where's Finn?"

Puck inquires, stealing the remote console from Matt's hand. He plops down on the couch, trying to shove chips in his mouth at the same time.

"Doctor's appointment."

"Huh." Puck's eyes narrow as he searches his memory from the morning. Wasn't Finn the one who suggested a retreat into boy's night? Puck shrugs his shoulders, he'll have to give Finn a piece of his mind when he has a chance later. He loves his boys, as much as a guy could, but he passed up sleep for Halo and Cheetos. He's not feeling friendly at the current moment, and his mind wanders to what Rachel is up to. He bets she would let him sleep.

Rachel, on the other side of town, is occupied with thoughts of her father's dinner party, scheduled to be later that night. He is up for a new promotion at his company's law firm and tonight is meant to be a gesture of sorts, a chance to make a favorable impression on his boss.

Hearing the doorbell ring through her headphones, she jogs over to the door, pulling it open to discover Finn on her doorstep.

"Hi, Finn. What are you doing here? I believe Noah mentioned to me earlier that there's a boys activity this afternoon."

Finn shrugs his shoulders.

"First I heard of it."

"Oh. Okay."

There is an awkward pause between the two as Finn stands there on her doorstep, hands in his pockets, and Rachel deep in thought. Noah wouldn't lie to her, perhaps she misheard or he possessed inaccurate information. He was in a very tired state earlier this morning when she saw him.

"Can I come in?"

"OH," exclaimed Rachel. She had been so preoccupied with thinking about Noah that she hadn't realized Finn is still standing on her doorstep. "I forgot my manners."

She opens the door further to allow him to pass and she hopes he doesn't stay long, she has to finish cleaning; after she thinks that, she feels slightly ashamed of herself for impolite thoughts.

She catches the small smile tugging his lips upward, a similar smile to the one she liked so many ages ago. She shakes her head, she does _not_ have doubts about her relationship with Puck; no matter how new it may be.

She shuffles her feet back and forth as she waits for him to speak, and when he doesn't say anything, a nudging voice in her head suggests she be the first.

"So, what brings you here? Don't mind the mess, daddy's having a business party tonight and I promised him I would freshen up the place a bit."

"I was, uh, in the neighborhood actually, and figured if you weren't busy, you could use the company."

She brings a hand to her face, wiping the stray hair that keeps billowing through.

"That's rather sweet of you. Make yourself at home."

She walks over to the chair closest to the cabinet, and her tiny feet stand on it, and she feels herself wobble before she has the ability to lose her place.

Finn bridges the space between him and Rachel, his arms catching her before she has a chance to fall from her chair.

"You should have asked. I would have helped you get it from the top shelf."

He lowers her down to the floor and before she has a chance to speak, he leans in to kiss her, his tongue circling her teeth, and instinctively she moves into the kiss, her lips kissing back. He doesn't let her go, his palm pressed into the small of her back.

When the kiss breaks apart, Rachel stares at Finn wide eyed, her eyes smiling mirthlessly.

"I think you should go now," Rachel whispers. "This was a mistake."

The words leave her tongue on a _whoosh _of air, quietly as they came. The tension in the air between them multiples, increasing in weight as the two stand there awkwardly. Things have always been easy between them, an easy routine of feelings, and there's a sinking feeling at the bottom of her stomach that they won't ever have that back.

Finn reaches out to brush her cheek with his fingers before he speaks. She feels an electric spark but she can't bring herself to acknowledge it was from him; perhaps there was static.

"Maybe it wasn't."

He gives her one last look and Rachel swallows uncomfortably as he walks out the door. She turns on her heel to walk up back the stairs to her room, her feet slightly heavy with the implications of what just occurred. She doesn't understand why Finn had to go and pick now to kiss her, especially now that she is dating his best friend.

She bites her lip and decides honesty is the best policy; just not in this particular scenario.

Rachel begins laying out her clothes for the dinner party tonight and thinks there is an exception to every rule, and perhaps she'll have a glass of wine tonight.


	24. AN

AN: Just a quick note to the reviewer who was dissatisfied with my last chapter and said I could do better. Yeah, I could do better but you know what? I don't really care that much anymore; I don't care about updating a story a handful reviews and I'm insulted. I don't see why I should have to write _better_ for a handful of reviews. I have school and work and family drama. I don't hold chapters hostage. If I'm remotely happy with a chapter, I'll post it. Really, at the end of the day, I write for myself and if I'm happy, that's what matters. And maybe two other people. I really don't care if it could be improved or not because it's not going to make a difference. People will read it and like it or hate it. It's not as if more than five to ten people will say anything, constructive criticism or not. No, this isn't a ploy for more reviews. /End rant.

AN #2: Someone just wrote that I was complaining and being petty, and that's what reviews are for. Yeah, reviews are constructive criticism. Saying you can do better isn't constructive you know? How am I supposed to improve? If you want to say I could do better, that's fine. At least say _how_.


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